Bones
by Conorlovegood
Summary: Jasper is afraid of change until he falls for someone worth jumping for. Rated M
1. Bones

All main characters belong to Stephanie Meyer; I just enjoy their company.  
>This wouldn't be here without my dear friend and beta Touchstone 67, thank you for all your encouragement. Remember everybody, all mistakes are hers.<p>

I'm new to this, be kind.

I watched his face as he stuttered basic replies into the receiver, his square jaw set in hard lines and soulful green eyes doing nothing to hide his fear. Possibilities rallied in my mind as I tried to work out what had gone wrong in those few seconds, the thoughts grew, drawing closer, their volume increasing and intensifying as the conversation found its end.

"Edward?" I mouthed at him panic stricken.

He shook his head minutely and closed his eyes. "I'll do what I can," he finished, sighing and placing the handset back into its cradle.

Going with my reflexes, I was at his side immediately. If he pushed me away, I would try a tactic less natural to me. "What do you need?"

"Some perspective," he replied doubtfully, burying his head in his hands and gripping a handful of his messy copper locks.

"There's children dying in Africa?" I tried and he shook his head, chuckling lightly at my distasteful remark. "What happened?"

"We've been summoned," he said solemnly, sighing again before continuing, "by my mother." I laughed hard and the tension I'd been building dissipated. His frown deepened before he raised an eyebrow and questioned me. "I thought you weren't ready, love?"

"To tell my parents, not to meet yours," I answered, tracing the frown lines that marred his beautiful features. They disappeared under my fingertips, so I slid them down to the corner of his lip coaxing him into a crooked smile.

"You're bluffing, you can't fool me, Jasper Whitlock," he muttered darkly.

"Yes, but I'll bluff for them too, if it will take your fear away," I promised sincerely, ignoring images of the typical family greeting and suppressing a shudder.

"There's more," he continued, his eyebrows knitting back together and his tone more delicate.

"We've been invited tonight." He gritted his teeth and pulled his lips back from them in a tense grin.

I wasn't prepared for that, a month I could manage, a week I would survive, but not five or six hours. Pulling away from him, I started weaving patterns in the carpet as I paced, a breaking a sweat as I incoherently mumbled encouragement to myself, switching effortlessly from doubt to confidence. Finally landing on skepticism, I turned back to face him. He'd settled into his chair and I idly wondered how long I'd left him in the lurch while I'd been lost in my own thoughts.

"I can't," I finally breathed unable to control the break in my voice, fearful my words would hurt him.

He smiled sadly and held out a hand in invitation. "I know," he returned.

I closed the distance and laced my fingers with his, watching as his other hand made quick work of clearing the books and paperwork fanned out around him in organised chaos, then he spread his legs to make space for me. Perching between them, I gradually relaxed back into him as he soothed my worries away.

"It's okay, Jasper, when you're ready," he murmured pressing a kiss to my temple.

I opened my mouth to say something else but the thought slipped away when I felt the mood shift, his arousal rippling off him in waves. Just as I registered it, I felt his warm breath against my ear for a split second before he licked the shell and sucked my lobe in through his teeth. Having no control from that position, my hands tightly clasped in his, I groaned in encouragement. Sliding my head up further onto his shoulder and twisting my neck, my lips eagerly sought his. He brushed his lips along mine imperceptibly and let go of my left hand, ghosting the backs of his fingers across my cock until my lips parted and my hips bucked into his hand. He simultaneously slipped his tongue into my mouth and a hand into my loosened jeans, and I reacted shamelessly, rubbing against both, while his other hand rested against my neck, tilting my head back and toward him.

"Fuck" he moaned, removing his hand and lifting me from between his legs up onto his hips. I could feel him pressing hard against me through his thin sleep pants as he rocked in chorus with the measured flicks of his tongue, brushing his hands across my overheated skin.

"Stand up for me, strip off your clothes" he commanded, his verdant eyes hooded and full of desire.

I got to my feet, grumbling at the loss in contact, but eager to rid myself of the clothing. As I removed my shirt, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes raked over my naked torso, drinking me in. For once I didn't feel vulnerable and self-conscious, so I took my time. Watching his eyes flick rapidly back and forth between my mouth and crotch, I licked my lips intentionally, transfixing his stare for a few seconds before roughly tugging the zip on my jeans. His gaze dared back to my hands, his long eyelashes fluttering with the movement. He hooked his thumbs into his own pants and pushed them down his legs, leaning back in his chair again to watch me do the same. Insecurities evaporated, I was free to take him in. He was truly beautiful, an angel's face made up of mismatched angles, his nose long and straight, his jaw square and his chin blunt. I laughed to myself, enjoying the clichéd moment of realisation that I loved him so acutely I would be willing to die for him, more than that, I _wanted_ to die for him, because how else was I to prove it? Standing, he took my hand and pulled me towards the door.

"I need to shower, come and take a shower with me?" I blinked, his velvet voice snapping me out of my obsessive appraisal. Laughing at my vacant stare, he took one of my hands. Leaning in close so that his warm breath danced across my ear and his body heated mine, he sang in a low murmur, "Don't you want to come with me, don't you want to feel my bones on your bones? It's only natural."

I grinned at him, pleased he'd shaken me out of my overwhelmed state, grateful he'd plagued another favourite song with innuendo. It was the one thing guaranteed to shake up a playlist. Taking my other hand, he tugged on them, and walking backwards, led me into the shower, eyes alight with want.

"**~~**"

I watched him disappear through the door, still running a towel through his damp hair. I closed my eyes, allowing my hearing to take over, I followed his movements through the house, listening for the familiar creaks of floorboards and clicks of doors. The snap of the dryer door and low rumble as it started up told me he'd found clean clothes amongst all the neglected laundry, and an intermittent clicking sound told me he'd left the zips undone.

I let the comforting sounds soothe me half asleep, only stirring back to attention when the footfalls got heavier and louder, coming to a stop a few paces away from me. Keeping my eyes closed, my other senses joined in now that they had proximity on their side, breathing in his freshly rinsed scent tainted by body wash, feeling the sensitive skin prickle and the hairs stand on end from the heat of his body. Smiling lazily, I pried one eye open, surprised to see him fully dressed running a hand under his jaw, checking if he'd shaved thoroughly. He looked perfect in low slung jeans and a thick knit sweater hugging his firm chest. I whistled automatically at him and he waggled his eyebrows with no hint of a blush tainting his cheeks. He knew how good he looked.

"What's in the dryer?" I quizzed him, the buzz from it still audible.

"Just some clothes, yours mostly," he answered, looking past me at his reflection in the mirror, fiddling with his unntamable hair.

"You're doing my laundry." I smiled at him, warmed he would take care of me that way. Raising his eyebrows at me, he smiled back, hoping I'd clarify whether it was a problem.

When my lids fell closed again, he simply pecked me on the cheek, telling me he'd be home in the morning. My eyes snapped open and I grabbed at him in protest. "The morning?" I asked, desperately hoping I'd misheard.

"I'll be surrounded by family on all sides, you don't expect me to get through that sober do you?"

"No I suppose not," I mumbled, resigned I'd be spending the night alone.

As soon as he left, guilt washed over me with no mercy. It was my fault he was heading into his family's party empty handed with nothing to show for weeks of neglecting them to lavish attention on me. I should be at his side. I was letting him down. I was worthless.

I didn't bother to fight off the thoughts, submitting to them instead, allowing them to consume me and take control. How could he possibly want me after letting him down like this? What use would I be to him when I could barely manage to fake pleasantries on short notice? He deserved better.

I allowed that thought to take hold, imagining how he would breakup with me when he realised I wasn't worth the effort, the guilt I was feeling reflected perfectly in his eyes as he extracted me from his life. I wouldn't put him through that, he didn't need to feel guilt for leaving me. I was broken and it wasn't his job to hold me together. I would leave while I had the chance, I wouldn't make him watch me pack. I drew all the thoughts together, using them to fuel the fire. I'd need the energy if I was going to act quickly. They boiled, pushing me up and out of bed.

A loud beep distracted me and I sighed, reaching out for my phone as the thoughts fell back to a simmer.

_Keep my bed warm, get some sleep, I love you_

Edward was throwing me a life line. Just like that, the thoughts retreated, not disappearing, but fading into the background. I read and reread, feeding a new flame. He loved me so much that my not going to the party was okay. I played his words in my head over again and again, and I realised I loved him so much that going _would_ be okay. Repeating it to myself like a mantra, I drove myself forward in search of clothes. Not finding anything as easily as I'd hoped, I headed for the dryer in a last dash attempt of my new plan falling into place. The cycle had finished and I opened it, reaching around in the dark, searching more for a sign than an outfit. I pulled out the contents and found my favourite black jeans, black underwear, a white shirt and a pullover, even a pair of socks. A full outfit.

He'd known.

I smiled, he'd had faith enough in me to make sure I'd have the clothes required when I made the decision for myself. He really did know me.

I was heading to the car within minutes, my legs slightly trembling with fear. Climbing behind the wheel, my attention was caught by a folded piece of paper sitting on the dashboard, and I flicked on the overhead light to look closer.

_You made it this far without thinking about directions?_

I laughed at his thoroughness and realised the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Opening the sheet, I read, trying to ignore the thrill I got from his beautiful penmanship. The inside contained detailed instructions on how to get to his parent's house, followed with a simple, but heart-warming closing.

_Can't wait to see you._

_Edward_

Suddenly, I couldn't wait to see him either, and by the time I reached the last set of traffic lights before the turn to their home, my leg was bouncing with impatience. I was eager to get to Edward and show him how brave I was being, to see the pride on his face when he saw me arrive.

Shortly after, I pulled into the drive way and cut the engine, slipping on my glasses as I got out of the car, my poor vision and the dark night were not a suitable match and I wanted to arrive on the doorstep in one piece. I was halfway to the door, my eyes having been trained on my feet until I thought to take in my surroundings. The beautiful home and garden quickly lost my appreciation when I noticed a second driveway to the side of the first filled with cars, and all hope of it being a quiet family get together slipped from my grasp.

Frozen in place, I finally peeled my eyes from the overwhelming number of vehicles and focused my attention on the doorway. I watched as shadows passed the window, frames of all different sizes blocking the warm glow of light in a steady rhythm, the hum of activity breaching the cold night air. I turned away, and no longer feeling the confidence from before, started moving toward my car, climbing back into the familiar safety and buckling my seat belt to amplify that feeling. Turning the key in the ignition, I shifted the car into gear and glanced out of the passenger window to check if I was safe to pull out at that angle.

The paper on the passenger seat caught my eye again and I sighed, sweeping it up to read again.

_Can't wait to see you._

Letting his words fill me, I traced his elegant script with my fingertip and looked up into the rear view mirror, surprised when my mask easily slipped into place, something that usually took me hours to condition. That time when I left the car, I was prepared and ignored the alarms from before, quickly finding myself situated on their doorstep with a hand poised over the doorbell.

Just in time I pulled my hand away. The house was swarming with guests, I didn't need to draw attention to myself by ringing the bell when I could slip by unnoticed. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself, forcing every negative thought out of my mind and opened the door.

A wall of strangers greeted me, each more beautiful and breathtaking than the last, some turning their heads to acknowledge me, but most ignoring me as I passed. I showed them the same level of interest, intent on finding Edward. I headed for the most promising area of the house and walked toward the large entryway for the main room.

I stopped in my tracks before anyone noticed me, sliding back out of view so I could observe.

My eyes instantly fell on him, but it was wrong somehow. The man I saw before me was not the man I knew. This was a man I didn't recognize, or at least it was a side to him I'd never seen. The man before me then was a burning man, he no longer exhaled freedom, he emanated rage and cloaked himself in sadness. His expression was nothing short of heartbreaking as he stood staring dejectedly into his drink, unwittingly transmitting his emotions and displaying all the pain he was feeling.

After what seemed like forever, he looked up and saw me, the corners of his mouth turned up, and for the first time in nine years, his family saw the light return to his eyes.

It represented more than what was outwardly visible, it wasn't just a sign of pleasure or amusement, it wasn't a kindly gesture or a token of appreciation. In those moments when it shone it's brightest, when his heart was behind every facial muscle and his eyes didn't betray his grin, it was a battle won. Those who knew him well, of which there were few, were the only ones to sense the triumph. For a man as lowly as he, that flickering smile was everything.

His smile held all his beauty, it surpassed all imagination and encompassed all his charm, but most of all it gave those lucky ones present a glimpse behind the wall, at the man I had come to know.

The room was shocked into silence. His mother gasped and stumbled over her words, quickly throwing herself back into full pace before Edward could notice the intense stir in emotions he'd just caused.

While I couldn't fathom the circumstance, I could understand the awe, something in it was powerful enough to leave me breathless, it rendered me speechless and it could have given any defibrillator a run for its money.

As his eyelids fluttered closed, I was released from his gaze and blinked myself, feeling a little lightheaded before being hit by a wave of ingenuity, smacking head first into a wall of understanding. The trigger of the silence suddenly became so clear. He was not a man they recognized, he was a sharp contrast to everything they knew.

The man they knew was the burning man.

I made my way over to him and his mother armed with the realization of knowing her flustered state was not due to my being there, but his unexpected mood swing.

He introduced her as Mrs. Cullen and I promptly gave her my most winning smile, placing my hand in hers. She leaned into the handshake and kissed my cheek. Whispered a quiet "Thank you," for my ears only, following it up with a slightly tearful, "for bringing our boy home to us."

My emotions quickly began to overwhelm me and I immediately put some distance between the two of us, smiling back at her and excusing myself. This was the last thing I needed. I wasn't about to embarrass either of Edward or I by losing my grip. I made a beeline for the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Carefully avoiding looking into the ornate mirror above the sink for fear of catching sight of the mask I was about to put back on.

In my hurry to cool the rise of emotions threatening to expose me, I'd forgotten to lock the door.

''I thought I might find you in here,'' he said from the doorway.

A shaky breath I'd unknowingly been holding onto left my body and a look of worry flitted across his features. Slowly he closed the short distance between us and wrapped his arms around me, reminding me of the way one might approach a frightened animal. The thought pushed a chuckle, slightly muffled by his shoulder, through my body. In answer to his quirked eyebrow, I explained my sudden outburst.

"I must look bad if even you are approaching me with caution."

"You have never looked more beautiful," he stated, lifting his hand to soothe the burning embarrassment staining my cheeks.

Our eyes locked again and I forgot where I was. I silently determined whether his compliment was an invitation for intimacy by pressing my lips to his in a chaste kiss to gage his reaction. He responded immediately with a quiet moan and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding across mine in a request for entry. His unique taste mixed with the wine he'd been staring into when I'd arrived sent shivers through me, instantly firing desperation through my system.

I deepened the kiss, twining our tongues together. Reassuring and supportive and oh-so-sexy, reminding me I was his, only me, and that we would get through the evening together. He rocked his frame against mine with one steady thrust and my mind went blank again, forgetting everything but how much I needed him. Grasping at my last ounce of restraint, my hands shot between us, halting his movements and I gave him one last kiss, placing my forehead against his for a moment before moving completely out of his reach.

"This is not how one goes about charming their man's parents."

"No I don't suppose it is," he said with a sigh. I gasped slightly and he reached down to readjust the straining denim of his jeans.

Determined not to lose my resolve, I brushed the back of my hand over my kiss swollen lips, straightened my clothing out and took a deep breath before reaching for the door handle and willingly throwing myself back into the oncoming storm.

We headed back into the main room and set a course for the nearest drink table. Edward introduced to a few relatives along the way, but I knew his mother was the ultimate goal, the test I'd have to pass.

Procuring two drinks, one for myself and one as a peace offering for Mrs. Cullen, I finally made my way over to her. Pleased she was standing alone, I arrived neatly by her side, replaced her glass and spilled out a heartfelt apology.

"Mrs. Cullen, my manners are usually better, this is very new to me, I hope you can forgive my rudeness?"

She smiled kindly and replied, "Esme, you can call me Esme. We've all been there, I feigned illness on my first three visits to meet my husband's parents, I'm surprised we got you here on the first try."

Relieved she was going to let me off easy, I exhaled and ran my fingers through my disheveled hair, then began politely asking her questions about her family and work.

I felt a warm, reassuring hand land in the small of my back for a few seconds before disappearing completely and I finally relaxed into the conversation knowing he approved and was happy with how I was conducting myself.

In love with the idea of such a big family that I was so close to having a part of and being accepted into, I listened carefully to her, committing her family tree to memory. I never stopped watching Edward as he circled the room reacquainting himself with his surroundings.

"So Edward tells me that you…" She switched the conversation back to me and I braced myself for an interrogation, "have a daughter," she finished and I relaxed again, knowing there wasn't a person in the world who could feel negatively toward Valerie.

"I'm quite intrigued as to how that came about, is there a wife you're keeping hidden too?"

I openly laughed at the idea of me with a wife and went on to set her mind at ease.

"She's my niece, my sister passed shortly after her birth and she would have wanted her with family, so I adopted her." A moment of shock distorted her features at the less than traditional circumstances before a warm smile spread across them.

"That's very good of you, you have a very big heart to take on such a responsibility."

"She's no responsibility, ma'am, she's my family," I said nodding toward her son, hoping she would understand.

A knowing look lit her face before she asked, "Am I likely to be meeting her someday."

"I'd hoped so, you're the only set of willing grandparents she has." I held in another breath and looked at the floor, cursing myself internally for jumping so far ahead and saying something potentially offensive. Was grandparent an offensive thing to say? I really had no idea about women at all. I chanced a glance at her and was relieved to see she was positively beaming at the idea and her eyes had glazed over.

The warm hand returned to its place on my back, and when I was sure it was no momentary brush of reassurance I leaned into it, letting him support my weight. Resting my head back against his shoulder, I breathed in his scent. Exhaustion washed over me as I relaxed fully for the first time that evening and I glanced at him with panic in my eyes, knowing I needed sleep and I needed it right then.

"Were going to have to excuse ourselves shortly, Mum, it's been a very long day," Edward said, coming to my rescue.

"You know where the spare room is," she smiled at him before turning to me and adding, "Make yourself at home, Jasper."

Edward nodded and headed for the stairs while I stayed and expressed my happiness for having finally met her.

"**~~**"

"That went well," Edward said as I closed the bedroom door behind me and began removing articles of clothing. He was already in bed pulling back the covers for me to join him. I climbed in, relaxing even more as I hit the pillow.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you back there with my impromptu disappearance," I apologized, shame enveloping me again as I recalled the evening.

"She told me to hold on to you," he whispered. "When you left, she told me to never let you go." As if to prove his point, he pulled me into his embrace and laid gentle kisses along my collarbone. "I love you," he said fiercely.

"I love you too," I barely managed to murmur before sleep overtook me.

Shakespeare once wrote 'There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood leads on to fortune, omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat, and we must take the current when it serves or loose the ventures before us'

I needed to stop hiding in bathrooms and enjoy the flood.

"**~~**"

I woke in his arms feeling much more relaxed than when I'd fallen asleep, and lay as still as I could. Careful not to wake him, I turned my head to watch him, his face the picture of innocence, his impossibly long eyelashes splayed across his high cheekbones and breath flowed across my chest.

He moaned lightly in his sleep and thrust his hips against me, drawing my attention to his raging hard on pressing insistently against my thigh. I muffled a groan, and losing my will to let him sleep, my hand reached up to run the tips of my fingers along his brow, across to his ear and down his jaw. His eyes fluttered open and I slipped onto my side to face him.

"Hey, baby," he greeted, a lazy smile gracing his sleep refreshed features.

"Hey," I returned, brushing my lips over his when I spoke. "Good dream?" I gently rocked my hips into his to make my point. His easy smile disappeared, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he tried to focus on my words and not the sensation of my hips grinding into his.

"Mhmm,'' he mumbled dreamily as I lightly trailed kisses along the underside of his jaw. "I was dreaming of you," he confirmed, rolling me onto my back and pressing open-mouthed kisses to my neck.

I went to respond but the realignment of our bodies caused the next thrust to slide his cock along mine and my mind once again went blank, throwing my line of thinking off track.

"Kiss me," I managed, already reduced to desperate two syllable commands. I pulled him closer, taking his bottom lip between my teeth and tugging on it. Immediately, his tongue flicked across my teeth, begging for entry. I released his lip and ran my tongue over the freshly bitten bright red skin to soothe it.

"Unless you've got something better to do?" I enquired, quirking my eyebrow inquisitively. His right hand shot up into my hair answering my question by pulling me toward him as he kissed me. I pressed myself back into him just as hard, deepening the kiss, tongues entwining and exploring each other. Instantly, I felt overheated from his attentions and needed more. Gasping for air, we broke apart and our foreheads found each other, green eyes meeting blue.

He slipped his knees between my parted legs and poised over me, running his lips down my neck and chest, kissing lightly as he went, bypassing my nipples and licking his way down the hard lines of my stomach. His mouth hovered only centimetres above my achingly hard cock and he planted a firm kiss on the tip and licked his lips enticingly. I reached down and grasped the base of my dick, steering it toward his mouth and rubbing it along his lips.

"Open" I demanded, desperate to slide my dick in between his beautiful, wet lips. When he smiled, but kept his lips closed, I unwillingly let my eyes travel up to meet his gaze.

"Beg me," he challenged and my body automatically responded to the authoritative tone in his voice, hips bucking and dick gliding along his cheek.

"Please, baby, suck me, I need this...I need you."

I flushed at my choice of words, but was more than a little relieved when his tongue licked from base to tip and his mouth eagerly enveloped my cock. My other hand found its way from his shoulder to his hair, massaging his scalp in circular motions. He moaned at my touch, sending vibrations through me. Speeding up, his tongue swirled around the head, rubbing the underside of my cock on every down stroke and lightly grazing me with his teeth on every other upstroke. He interrupted his own rhythm by letting my cock slide deeper into his mouth, burying me in the tight, wet confines of his throat. Throwing my head back, I fisted his copper hair tighter and closed my eyes, concentrating on not coming too soon. His mouth left me completely for a few seconds and I kept my eyes closed, my chest still rising and falling rapidly as I gasped for breath. Unexpected pain shot through me as he clamped his teeth down hard on my hip bone and my eyes flew open.

"Watch me," he commanded, a smile teasing at his lips before taking my length back into the warm cavern of his mouth. Not wasting any time, he continued his ministrations, occasionally taking me into the back of his throat, intensifying my pleasure every time he groaned in response to my own moans and thrusts. He looked up at me from under his eyelashes and my attention was caught by his other hand leaving my hip to smoothly run the length of his own cock in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. I shook my head at him and held my hand out in a request for his.

"Wait, baby, it'll be worth it," I implored and he groaned at me in frustration.

He accepted the offered hand and placed his hand in mine, tangling our fingers while I brought them to my lips and kissed his palm. While his eyes held my gaze, his hand left mine and he grazed two fingers across my lips, tapping them when he reached the corner before I sucked them into my mouth, copying his movements on my cock almost exactly. His eyes drifting closed momentarily as I lavished his fingers with attention. His fingers soon left my mouth and skimmed my balls before he pushed my legs further apart with his other hand. He gently circled my entrance with his warm, saliva-covered forefinger, carefully applying pressure until my body allowed him inside. Once the tip of his finger made his way past the tight ring of muscle, he quickly slid it in the rest of the way without hesitation, settling into a steady motion that matched that of his mouth.

The tightly wound coil in my belly threatened to spring free and I tugged his hair in warning. He groaned at the feeling of his hair being pulled, the vibrations from his groans more intense with the head of my cock against the back of his throat. Skimming the tip of his finger across my sensitive prostate, he promptly pushed me over the edge. I came hard, thinking and seeing and hearing nothing, but feeling everything. Every muscle in my body tensed to capacity, relaxing and burning and screaming with pleasure. He ran his tongue back up my stomach and stopped when he reached my chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and tugging with his teeth, prolonging my orgasm. I arched my back and he added a second finger, my body responding by bucking my hips as he tugged my nipple harder. Taking advantage of my position, he moved his hand under my hips and held them in midair, hitching a leg over his thighs, knowing I would copy with the other. He continued to thrust his fingers inside me at the same teasing pace.

He leaned over me and kissed the pulse in my neck before bringing his face up to just inches in front of mine. He added a third finger and licked my clenched teeth, twisting his tongue with mine the second they fell open. Gasping for breath, he tore his lips from mine and placed them back at my throat, nipping tenderly while he readied me. I ran my nose up and down his neck, breathing in his heady scent. Seconds later, all three of his fingers firmly grazed my prostate and I bit down hard on his collarbone, desperately rocking against his hand.

"Can I fuck you?" he pleaded, returning his gaze to mine and running his fingers through my sweat dampened curls.

The very idea that he thought I might not want to when I was groaning constantly and hard as rock mere minutes after my last orgasm while riding three of his fingers struck me as very amusing and I laughed. A look of understanding flashed in his eyes and he laughed along.

"I was just being polite," he chuckled, his lips still spread into his signature crooked smile as his fingers brushed against my prostate again. Moaning loudly, I impaled myself on his hand. His grin left his face and was replaced with hungry heavy lidded eyes as he removed his fingers and reached behind me for the lube on the bedside table.

"Roll over baby," he instructed and moved from between my legs to give me space to manoeuvre.

I settled on my hands and knees in front of him and smiled as he kissed the nape of my neck and ran his hand down the curve of my spine. I heard the distinct click of the lube opening and waited patiently while he generously coated his length before dripping some in between my spread cheeks and teasingly rubbing his cock across my entrance. As he had with his fingers, he pressed the head of his cock against me, applying pressure until the muscles gave way, the pain lasting only seconds before I was overwhelmed with pleasure and the feeling of him completing me. When I pushed back onto him, he took the hint and rocked forward inch by inch, filling me and moaning out my name like a prayer. After a few steady thrusts, his need took over and he started erratically slamming into me. One hand trailed up my back and tangled in my hair, pulling a little harder than usual, and I quickly caught on that he wanted me to sit up. He moved backwards with me, sitting on his heels but never leaving my ass's tight embrace. Wrapping his arms around me, his fingers firmly gripped my hips and lifted my upper body as we pulled apart, slamming back together with more power, the new position driving him further inside me. He grasped my hand in his and guided it to my cock, wordlessly instructing me to pleasure myself without pausing in his constant reverential mutterings. I matched his pace and every groan until he brushed my hair out of his way and twisted my neck slightly to lock lips with me, settling for biting and soothing my jaw when my neck inevitably veered back into a more natural position. Shifting his hips minutely, he forcefully rubbed along my prostate. I cried out loudly and he went onto hit it three more times before I threw my head back onto his shoulder.

"Baby, I'm co-"

My orgasm cut me off short and wiped the speech centre of my brain clean. For the second time that morning my body was ripped apart by crashing waves of pleasure, spurts landing on my chest and hand. I heard him mutter and tug my hair harder before releasing inside me filling me with warmth. He turned my head toward him and kissed me briefly before pushing me back on to all fours and pulling out. I whimpered at the loss and he leaned over me, burying his face between my shoulder blades and laughing softly. He was well aware of how romantically I viewed him inside me, as the completion of my soul and how lost I professed to be without it.

Winding his arms around me, he easily flipped me onto my side and then lay down and relaxed his body against mine, resting his chin on top of my shoulder. I practically purred as I started to drift back to sleep again.

"I love you, beautiful, above all else, I love you."

"Always," I murmured, falling back into the easy sleep I'd woken from.


	2. Dustland fairytale

All main characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, I just enjoy their company.

xx / \ xx

The alarm rang harsh and loud. I stirred unwillingly from the best sleep I'd had in weeks, groaning and automatically reaching my arms out into the space beside me, searching for a warm body. When  
>I found nothing but empty space, I quickly settled for his still warm pillow, pulling it close and curling into it. I buried my face in it, inhaling his scent.<p>

"No, Jas, don't go back to sleep" he coaxed, chuckling when I muttered back bitterly.

Prying my eyes open, I found him getting dressed, his disheveled hair brushing back with the movement as he pulled on a sweater. I stretched out, intent on staying put for as long as possible as he finished buckling his belt and sat back on the bed with his back against the headboard and his ankles crossed. I let my eyes flutter closed again as his long fingers got lost in the waves of my hair. Using the moments he was giving me to gather myself and psych myself up for the morning that would surely unfold, an uninterrupted half hour in the company of a father I had yet to meet. His close proximity prevented a full blown melt down and instead of breaking a sweat and hyperventilating, panicking and bailing out on him all together I simply sighed and let my mind drift to something safer like what I would wear…Wait what would I wear?

"I forgot clothes."

He smiled down at me sleepily. "Never thought you'd make it this far, huh?"

I twisted my lips nervously and let my eyebrows knit together. "Sorry, I guess not."

"It's okay, I believed enough for both of us," he whispered reverently, leaning forward to brush his lips across my forehead before resting his nose against me and breathing in a deep, steady rhythm.

"Are you asleep?" I whispered back when he still hadn't moved a few minutes later.

His frame shook slightly as he chuckled. "No, just giving you a minute."

"My point was what am I going to wear?"

"Hmm, fortunately I believed enough to bring you spare clothes," he smirked.

"You brought me clothes?" I asked, eyes wide in surprise.

"I keep wondering when you will get used to that." I blinked at him wondering if I'd heard him correctly, feeling the intensity behind his words. "What happened to you," he muttered to himself, more a statement of wonder than a question to be answered.

I wasn't ready to tell him, he knew that much, but the curiosity was there and if I wanted forever, I would have to offer something real.

xx / \ xx

I approached them nervously as they stood side by side, intimately close but not touching. Regardless of the progress from the night before, talking to Esme in the harsh light of day would be hard to handle, not to mention his father who I had yet to be introduced to. He smiled affectionately toward Edward and then turned to me. It wasn't a cold look, but it certainly lacked warmth, and I shuddered in response.

"Your an art teacher," he stated more than asked.

I nodded and confirmed anyway, coughing and finding my voice when he raised his eyebrow, not taking that as a suitable reply. "Yes."

He raised his eyebrow again. Apparently that wasn't enough either.

"University?"

"Yes, sir," I tried that time, hoping that was what was lacking previously. "UCC."

As he openly sized me up, I took in and held a deep breath while I waited for his verdict. I let my eyes fall to stare at my feet, anxious for what was sure to come.

The silence dragged and I started to panic, unnerved that I was being received so poorly. They loved him like a son, I knew I would have to work hard to please them but I'd hardly had a chance. The problem was he loved them like parents, and if I didn't have the full love and approval of all three family members, I was sure to lose him.

A chime like laugh brought me out of my thoughts and I looked to see Esme as I tried to work out why she was so amused. Finding that her gaze was elsewhere, I followed it and came to rest back on her husband's face. The corner of his lip twitched back and forth as he tried to suppress his laughter.

"Don't play with him, it isn't funny," she said, her small giggles betraying her words.

I risked looking Carlisle in the eyes and was surprised by the familiar mischievous glint I often saw in Edward's, if I didn't know better I would swear it ran in the family.

"Nice to meet you Jasper."

Movement caught my eye and I followed it to his outstretched arm, cautiously taking his hand in mine as the moment of realisation caught up to me.

"Take a seat," he said, motioning his other hand toward the dining table.

I turned and found Edward standing there, his hands gripped around the chair he had pulled out for me to sit in. My face heated up at the chivalrous gesture and it became apparent that the blush had tainted my cheek when he quickly stroked it with his fingertip.

I sat watching Esme finish serving dinner while her husband helped, moving seamless around the kitchen preparing what looked to be a huge breakfast. My temperature began to rise at the prospect of having to eat a whole meal, a whole meal of fried food, and being watched while I did so. These weren't my parents, I had no idea how to work them, no idea how observant they were. The bonus was they barely knew me, they wouldn't notice my behaviour as out of character, I had that working in my favour. I could ask question after question and they wouldn't know how rarely I spoke when I didn't have something specific to say.

It was too late to feign illness, I was already there, and from watching the way Esme lovingly took care of Edward and Carlisle, she wouldn't let me get away with not eating. Not to mention how rude that seemed given the time she put in to cooking it.

To calm myself, I closed my eyes and counted my blessings. I let my mind wander, the smells of the kitchen and the hard-backed dining room chair enabling the vague memories of breakfasts I had encountered before.

xx / \ xx

_I climbed up onto the high stool, waiting patiently for my breakfast. The all too familiar rumblings of hunger quickly turned to dread and my stomach churned at the sight of the meal that was clattered onto the table in front of me. I looked up in disbelief at the cruel grin playing at my father's lips, searching for a sign that this was a joke. When I found no such sign on my father's face, I turned to my mother, who looked distantly out of the kitchen window at the neighbours passing by._

_Left unrefrigerated, the stench had intensified, the bacon had curled and hardened, the liver had formed a layer of white fat across its surface and the semi-mashed potatoes visible lumps had dried out._

_The first tear rolled down my face, the ultimate sign of weakness. A sharp slap knocked me back and I grimaced, lifting my fork in submission. I forced my taste buds to listen to the fantasy I'd played out a hundred times before, of the food I'd seen advertised through living rooms windows on my paper route. Crispy chicken I murmured to myself as I took the first bite. Steamed vegetables I promised my stomach as I swallowed. Not knowing when my next chance would come, I would eat every bite._

xx / \ xx

Edward cleared his throat, tightening his grip on my hand, and my thoughts were pulled back into the room. Shaking, I wiped the back of my hand over my forehead and straightened my clothes while breakfast was served in front of me, the plate now overflowing with hot eggs, sausages and bacon.

"Thank you," I said simply, pleased when she returned the gesture with a warm smile.

The room stilled and I sealed my eyes closed again in the pause, assuming they were waiting to say grace. Waiting for the guilt and the pain laced thick in the air as the precursor to every family meal I'd encountered.

When it didn't come, I snapped my eyes open, finding them all busying themselves, opening napkins or newspapers, or pouring orange juice into tumblers. Grace was not something that took place in this house. I relaxed and sat waiting.

They started to eat and I started my routine, praying it would slip their notice.

"Have you lived here long?" I asked the first of many questions to come. As they spoke, I sliced into the Quorn sausages, cutting it into small chunks, scooping into the eggs next and piling them onto my fork. I brought the food to my mouth and then cut myself off. "The stained glass windows are beautiful, are they an original feature?" I continued, bringing the fork back to my plate, still loaded with food and pushing it back onto the plate, smiling to myself despite the nerves when they answered my questions without suspicion or hesitation.

I prepared another forkful and started again, no food passing my lips. When everybody else seemed to be finishing up, I clutched at my stomach, expressing how full I was and thanking them for a lovely meal. Placing my napkin over the shredded, uneaten food and offering to clear up, I swiftly removed my plate from the table before I could be discouraged.

Edward joined me in the kitchen, eyeing me warily before kissing my temple and drying the pots as I washed them. Occasionally he would catch my eye as we worked together, flashing me his crooked smile, silently telling me how proud he was of me for coming at all, for taking a step out of my comfort zone for him.

We left shortly after, saying how pleased we were to have finally met and how we hoped to see each other soon before making our way back out to our separate cars.

"Your coat," Esme called out.

I walked back toward the doorway, already feeling the chill that October brought with it. "Thank you, always leaving this behind," I said as I slid my arms into the sleeves and fiddled with the buttons.

She batted my hands away and fastened it for me. Brushing imaginary flint from my shoulders and biting her lip as if to stop unfortunate words from slipping past them. "You look after yourself, stay warm and ...fed," she stumbled over the last word and looked up into my eyes apologetically.

I'd expected to feel fear, to feel sick and scared that I'd been found out, but contrary to all those things I just felt loved. It presented itself as ache in my chest, but I knew now that it was love. To have been noticed, for somebody to have recognized my pain, though it might not be my own mother, the person I craved this love from, it was Edward's and that was enough because I was simply his.

I watched the blur pass me on either side of the road, surprised at the brightness of the sun at each gap in the trees. The ride home wasn't a long one but it was long enough to leave me thinking. I fiddled with the dial on the radio and landed on a song that let the memories bleed through. Meeting his parents was a first and it led me to think about all our other firsts, to our very first, first, to the day we met.

xx / \ xx

"_You live here?" I asked, gazing up in awe at the white two-story house and manicured lawn straight from a fairy-tale, not bothering to hide the desire in my eyes._

_She turned her head back to look at me and flashed me a grin while her hands fumbled with the key._

"_He lives here, I live with him. Temporarily that is, until he comes to his senses and notices how one sided the deal is."_

"…_and you're not together?" I asked, the word deal not escaping my attention_. _She bit her lip and I filled in the silence._ _"Oh, you are together, but casually."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Jasper, you think you're so perceptive. No, we're not together. I'm not exactly …his type."_

I gave her a once over, taking in her long, red hair, porcelain skin and toned body and wondered how she could escape being any man's type.

"_But Jenny your…" I started, but stopped when I caught her wink._

"I know right?" She grinned back, comically flicking her hair, telling me she didn't need a confidence boost while opening the door and stepping inside.

_I patiently stood behind her while she bent to slip her heels from her feet. Following suit and shedding my trainers when I caught sight of the plush white carpets leading to the main room._

_I wandered around the house, idly touching the furniture as I passed through. A flash of blue caught my eye and I had difficulty suppressing the warm smile of familiarity that passed through me. Above the mantle was a large printed canvas of my favourite work._

"Starry night," I murmured to myself, my arm automatically outstretching as if to stroke it.

"_Drink?" she asked from the kitchen. I half turned to the doorway she was leaning around holding a bottle of lemonade. "It's flat, just how you like it," she added in her sing song voice tempting me further._

_I nodded my reply and continued around the living room, unashamedly snooping through their things, most of which I imagined weren't hers. I poked my head around the next door and couldn't contain my curiosity. I walked uninvited into a room that was most certainly not Jenny's. A beautiful Vintage America fender and piano sat side by side, cradling each other in their shared musical silence._

Running my finger along the keys, I leaned forward and played with one hand the only song I could remember. Music lessons were never something that stuck. It wasn't that I didn't try or that I didn't want to, I just didn't see the world as music notes like some did, in my eyes everything was a brush stroke and the world was a canvas. Music was not something I could read, I remembered how to play only from the image I had stored of my elderly piano teacher's fingers stroking the keys.

"_Hello, sweetie," I heard Jenny call again from the kitchen, but not loud enough for it to be directed at me. _

_When I heard the front door click as it closed and I snatched my fingers away from the piano as if they had been burnt, praying I made it to the door in time. Pulling the music room door silently behind me, I swiftly moved toward the kitchen hoping to sneak back in unnoticed and hide behind the drink she'd made for me._

"_I thought I'd make stir fry for dinner ton-" he said in the thickest London accent I'd heard to date. _

_With my focus on the velvety tones in his voice, I almost didn't notice the way he'd dropped his sentence as I slipped into the room._

With no prior warning from Jenny at the beauty I would find there, I looked up at him for the first time

_All I knew was that he had some money and she was taking advantage. I had no idea how securely I would have to safeguard my heart from the very first glance._

_The first thing I noticed was his height. It was hard to miss as he filled the room, standing at least 6"2 with a shock of messy bronze hair extending his height a few centimeters further. The second thing that drew me in was his face, the way all his features, while so odd, all grouped together to form something so godly in appearance. From the pale skin and emerald eyes to the dark shadows below them and straight nose between them, down to his full lips, the bottom lip jutting out and hanging open as if he was going to add something more about the evening meal. He snapped them shut as my eyes fell on them, revealing the kind of strong jawline you never saw in real life._

_I'd noted all that within a few seconds and still had time to catch the way he stumbled when he caught sight of me, leaving me open to react to it, my body's automatic reaction always being a blush. I turned toward Jenny and took the glass she held out to me, peaking out of my wavy hair for a few seconds to ensure her smug smile was firmly in its place before I scowled back._

_The moment we'd shared wasn't lost on me, I'd felt the intensity behind his eyes as they flickered over me and the rising of my own pulse and temperature. Words played over and over in my mind until they were no longer a question, but a confirmation of the hanging of his bottom lip. Jenny's words from merely 20 minutes ago, 'I'm not exactly …his type.'_

I caught her eye and winked, turning back to him and giving him my best smile, dimples in place.

"_Hi, I'm Jasper," I beamed, my arm outstretched to shake his._

xx / \ xx

Having set off a few minutes prior to me, Edward arrived home before me, but hadn't entered the house yet. Instead, he leaned against the door, the flat of his left foot resting against it, making him look totally at ease.

"Comfortable?" I asked as I vacated the car, squinting at him under the glare of the sun.

His skin looked beautiful in the light, brilliant white, almost luminescent. He didn't answer but his lip curled up at the comment.

"Thank you for meeting my parents, I know that wasn't easy," he said as I walked toward him and he took my hands in his.

I looked down at the foot that planted on the floor and watched as the other one joined it.

"Okay," I mumbled back shortly.  
>His hand left mine, but didn't lose contact with me for long, reaching to tilt my chin up, my eyes losing their fixed point on the ground and cautiously travelling to meet his. Hoping I wasn't misinterpreting the look in them, I breached the space between us and pressed my lips to his roughly. He responded to it immediately, brushing my hair back and grasping the side of my head to gain his angle. His soft lips molded with mine over and over while his hands roamed freely, unashamedly groping my ass.<p>

"We need to," he managed between kisses, "get inside"

Skillfully, he turned the lock and then leaned on the handle with his elbow, his other hand never leaving my ass. He ushered me inside, pulling us back against it to close it.

"Wall?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows and pushing me into it. I laughed and shook my head. "Floor?" he murmured, breathing the word against my neck, his playfulness replaced with desperation.

He ground his cock into mine when he recognized the affirmative tone in my answering moan and curled a strong hand around the back of my knee, pulling my legs out from under me and laying me on my back. Wrapping my legs around him, I pulled him close. His mouth found mine again, his tongue pushing into my mouth to stroke mine, encouraging each buck of my hips. He slipped his fingers between the mesh of grinding hips to flip the button on my pants through the loop and tug down the zip. With some effort I let him go, giving him room to pull off my jeans. Skipping formalities, bending my knees back and spreading my legs he dipped his head, his mouth finding my entrance. He flicked and probed while I fumbled for the jeans he'd cast off in search of the lube and condoms in the back pocket.

Sensing my extended hand, he blindly grabbed the sachets from me, reaching for his own dick and pulling it above the waistband of his pants. Once he'd expertly stretched the thin layer over himself, he generously coated it with lube, wasting no time before pushing into me. The reactive groan was unanimous, it was wanton and needy, a request for more, and he didn't hesitate in giving it. Quickly finding a rhythm our body's both agreed on, he fucked me unrepentantly with one hand protecting my head from the cool tiled floor and the other stroking my dick to the beat of his thrust. I held him to me firmly, one hand entwined in his dark hair as he laced my neck with tender kisses, a stark contrast to the snap of his hips. The other gripped his ass, further arousing me by the feel of the muscles clenching as he filled me.

Before I could warn him I was coming, I was coating the space between us with warm semen in short bursts. My body shook with finality and in a gasping breath, his followed, filling me with his essence. His forehead pressed to my chest briefly while he gathered himself. Shaking off the lingering effects of his orgasm, he pulled out, kissing me as he moved before breaking free and rolling onto his back, still panting heavily.

It was a few minutes before either of his broke the relaxing still of silence.

"Dry clean only," he sighed, pulling the hem of his shirt away from his body to inspect the garment. There was an intense pause while I studied him, nervous of his reaction before he laughed, full and hearty, eyes light and free of the darkness I'd grown accustomed to.

xx / \ xx

Even after a few hours of sleep, my entire body was still sated as I stepped outside the door of his house. Pulling up the collar of coat, I waited as he fiddled with the scarf around my neck and placed a kiss on my forehead. The brisk air was already trying to seep through my clothes, but the second his hand took mine, the cold seemed to fade.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he led me up the long driveway to the sidewalk.

It was almost midnight, most people were tucked into their bed, warm and comfortable, and we were taking a walk.

"Just to get some fresh air, house is beginning to smell a bit too much like sex," he chuckled.

"And that's a bad thing?" I teased, gently leaning against him.

"Not at all," he smiled crookedly. "But the fresh air will do us good, besides, what's more romantic than a walk in the snow?"

"A warm bed," I countered with a smirk.

It really didn't matter where I was as long as he was next to me. We fell into the silence we always did, the one I cherished, the one that allowed me to be as quiet or as talkative as I wanted. He was the first person I'd ever met that didn't expect conversation. He enjoyed the quiet as much as I did. Our booted feet crunched in the layer of newly fallen snow. Looking up, the black sky was dotted with the flakes falling lightly, but steadily. They quickly gathered on my eyelashes and glancing up at Edward, I saw the snow sprinkled on his hair, contrasting its warm bronze. Dressed in his jeans and boots and a long coat, his stride was long, almost twice mine, but it was easy, relaxed, and he shortened so our steps were almost perfectly timed.

Walking next to Edward was always so much more than the simple act of walking. Each time a car passed, its headlights sliding over us, my heart swelled with a warmth. It might have seemed foolish, but being seen with him by others, even for those brief seconds they drove by, made me feel special. Out of all the men he could have had chosen, he'd picked me. I tightened my grip on his gloved hand and he returned the squeeze. He knew exactly how being seen with him made me feel.

The snow continued to fall and we continued to walk. The inches built up on the concrete, and Edward was sure to lead me around any patches that might be icy with a sure arm around my waist. He sang softly a few times, different verses of holiday songs, letting his silky voice float in the air with the flakes.

I don't know how long or how far we walked, but we reached a field guarded by a small rock wall. There was an arched opening and Edward motioned toward it. Following him anywhere, we walked under the iron trellis and into a graveyard.

I almost laughed. Leave it to us to wander into a graveyard on our romantic walk. The snow seemed deeper, piling on the top of curved tombstones and flat polished memorials. Holiday wreaths, twinkle lights and even some candles decorated some of the stones, showing loved ones had recently visited. Small flames flickered as we walked by and I wondered how they remained lit in the snow. I had to admit, the subtle lighting gave the cemetery a romantic feel.

It was quieter in there, no sounds of people in their homes or passing cars. It was silent except for the falling snow and our footsteps. We ambled up and down a few rows, Edward commenting on the names engraved on some of the stones, his unique sense of humour in a place reserved for the somber enticing a few chuckles from me. Our hands never parted, even when we came to a bench on the pathway. The wood was weathered from years of snow and rain, the iron rusted in spots, but it was sturdy and a place to rest.

Edward reached down, brushing the snow from the seat before sitting and pulling me down with him. Tucking my body into his side, he draped and arm around my shoulders and I curled my knees up and leaned them against his lap. His large hand sat on my knee, his thumb stroking soothing circles. Snuggling me closer, he rested his head against mine.

I looked around at the gravestones, and couldn't help but be reminded of my sister. It hadn't been that long ago I'd been standing at her funeral watching her casket be lowered into the ground. Edward sensed a shift in the air and pulled me closer.

"Do you miss her?"

He knew she was gone, he knew how, but other than the basic facts on how my beautiful little girl had ended up in my custody, I'd not spoken much about Rosalie.

"Yeah, I do," I admitted quietly.

"But that's not why you're sad," he continued.

I'd never known anyone who could, or even wanted, to read me like he did. Every move I made, even those I didn't, spoke volumes to him. He caught every flinch and wince, every sigh and tense muscle. Sometimes I wondered why he bothered to ask the questions when he seemed to already know the answers. I gave him a weak smile, one I barely managed on a good day, in response.

"Are you lonely?" he hedged.

I had my daughter, she was the light of my life, but she was a baby, she couldn't possibly understand the stress I felt. I had a flatmate who was a good friend, but I didn't bother him with my problems. It wasn't until Edward that I felt I had someone I could be honest with. I wasn't lonely with him, but when we were apart, my heart ached with an emptiness, a void only filled by being in his presence.

"Yeah," I answered honestly.

"You're not alone," he reminded me.

He meant it. Even when I returned to Ireland, even when there were many miles between us, he would be just a phone call away. Turning, I pressed my lips to him, moaning when his tongue ran along the seam of my lips and he edged my jaw open. Any cold I had felt quickly dispersed and my body flared with the spark only he ignited. Before my cock hardened further, I broke the kiss and gave him a shy smile.

Silence enveloped us once again and I leaned into his solid form. The snow landed us, the individually designed flakes decorating our jeans. I would let some clump together, studying them before brushing them away.

"Do you think you will come back over?" he murmured into my hair.

Even though we'd talked on the phone nightly, it was only the second time we'd seen each other in person. I wanted nothing more than to return to him as soon as possible but between lack of money and my work, I wasn't sure when, or if, I could get back.

"Is that an invitation?" I asked hopefully.

Brushing my hair back from my temple, he coaxed my eyes to his and nodded. I tilted my head back, waiting for his soft lips to meet mine, his tongue to push inside. My entire body instantly flooded with the heat he created and filled me with. With a soft moan, he straightened and snuggled me closer.

"What if there's someone else?" I whispered.

There wouldn't be for me, I didn't think there ever would be after meeting him, but I couldn't ask him to wait for me to return, not when neither of us knew when that would be.

"There won't be for me, I'm in love with you," he replied softly and without hesitation.

The candle nearest us flickered, and then blew out at his confession. The words weren't new to me, but the intensity behind them did not go unnoticed. Although it was early in the relationship, I was in undoubtedly in love with him too. My heart skipped several beats and I trembled. I'd heard those words before but I'd never understood the meaning behind them romantically until Edward.

"But," I began with a sigh, "I don't know when I will be able to come back again. I don't want to trap you in this."

It was only fair to be honest with him, to let him go and not let him waste time waiting for me. It was his turn to sigh, and even though I'd only heard it a few times, I already knew what it meant. Putting his fingers under my chin, he forced me to look at him.

"Do I look trapped to you?"

There was a seriousness to his voice, yet it was full of the same love he'd laced his admission with. I gazed into his green eyes, searching for the answer to his question. The facets sparkled in the candle light, a serenity in them I'd not seen before. There was no frown on his face, no wrinkles of doubt or lines of confusion. He did not wear the face of a trapped man. Edward was exactly where he wanted to be, and I knew it.

Instead of answering his question, I cupped his cheek and drew his lips to mine in a lingering kiss. Soft passes of lips soon became needy nips and moans for more. My hand moved to his coat, clutching the collar to pull him closer. Instead of shifting toward me, his strong hands easily lifted me to his lap to straddle him. As my hands found his hair, tangling in the short tuffs of silk, his went to under my coat and shirt, skimming possessively along my lower back before easing up my sides and enticing a throaty groan from him that reverberated through us both. Circling my hips, I grinded my ass onto him and pressed our cocks together. Blunt nails burrowed into my flesh in response, his breaths as labored as mine when I pulled back, our lips barely touching. One hand moved to my hips, not to still them but to press me to him harder, the friction not nearly enough for either of us. He gazed at me with half-lidded lusty eyes, his lips swollen from our kisses. I didn't think about stopping or that we were in public, I only knew I wanted him in me when I felt his cock throbbing against my own.

"Fuck me," I murmured, my forehead against his.

His shiny lips turned down a slight frown of disappointment. "I have no lube," he admitted. Groaning in frustration, I snapped my hips forward and tugged on his hair. "Fuck it," he growled.

Before I felt the cold air on my skin, his deft fingers had my pants undone and were yanking them over my ass. Swiftly he worked them down my legs, even over my shoes, before placing them on the seat. In seconds, my ass was resting on the edge of the bench and he was kneeling between my legs, his hands spreading me as his buried his face. A moan heard by only Edward escaped me when I felt his warm, wet tongue penetrate me. My fingers gripped the damp wood slats and I used what little leverage I had to push against him, silently begging for more. Dipping his tongue in and out, his fingers rubbed and prodded, further working me into a wanton frenzy. Breathless, I watched him, his messed hair and closed eyes as he concentrated. In such dire need of his touch, of him, it didn't seem the slightest bit awkward to having doing something so intimate when in someplace so public.

Edward created enough heat with just his tongue to keep me warm that I'd forgotten about the falling snow until I saw it landing and melting on his cheeks. Lifting his head, his hand skillfully undid his zipper and he pulled his cock through it before quickly adjusting me so I was half lying on the bench. He leaned over me, one knee perched on the seat while and one hand braced on the back of the bench while the other wrapped around my neck to cradle my head. I fisted his jacket, wishing it was his smooth skin instead of abrasive wool. Caught in his rapt stare, I saw his eyes darken just as the head of his cock entered me. Rocking his hips forward, he pushed deeper, groaning at the sensation. I was unaware of everything except for him, the way his hair had fallen onto his forehead, the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips or how he bit them in effort, the amazing way he felt inside me. He quickly fell into a tight rhythm, hard, deep thrusts that I thought would surely loosen the bench from its cement base.

His pace quickened, and his slight shift in position was enough to force me over the edge. My body tensed just as it hit me. Before I could warn him, he slipped from me and bent over, his mouth covering my cock just as it throbbed and released. He swallowed a few times, moaning around me before rising and pushing back inside. My body was still reeling and trembling from the effects of the orgasm when he slammed into me and grunted. Pulling out, he moved up my chest. Looking up at him through my lashes, I opened my mouth, waiting for his taste. His hips bucked, his cock pulsing and emptying on my tongue and lips as his climax rolled through him.

"Mmmm," I moaned, licking every last drop of him from his cock before swallowing.

"Fuck," he whispered, lowering his lips to mine. Wrapping my legs around him, I pulled him on top of me, ignoring the slates poking my back. Our kisses were languid until Edward remembered we weren't truly alone. Taking his lips from mine, he glanced around at the quiet cemetery.

"Think they heard us?" he chuckled.

"You mean did we fuck loud enough to wake the dead?"

Chuckling, he pushed himself off me and put his dick back inside his pants before zipping them up. Snaking an arm under my waist, Edward lifted me and grabbed my pants. I sat up and tugged them on, but his hands replaced mine to button them. Edward stood, his hands pulling me off the bench to him. His lips grazed mine one last time before we started walking, our footsteps from earlier already coated by snow.

"You take me to the most romantic places," I smiled.

"How else will I be sure you return," he reasoned with a shrug.

Hand in hand, we walked down the path, the leafless trees lining it, the only witnesses to our love making, promising to keep our secret.

xx / \ xx

A/N This project has been on the shelf for awhile and only got picked back up yesterday so thanks to touchstone for the quick turn around, I implore you to shower her with praise in the comments section.  
>Check out the blog she shares with my boyfriend at touchstonescales DOT blog DOT com

Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter, it meant a lot to me!


	3. This is your life

All main characters belong to Stephanie Meyer; I just enjoy their company.  
>This wouldn't be here without my dear friend and beta Touchstone 67, thank you for all your encouragement. Remember everybody, all mistakes are hers.<p>

A soft, early morning sun sifted through the curtains of the bedroom. I could feel his warm body beside me. We'd only had the chance to wake in each other's embrace a few times, but it felt like something I'd been doing forever, something I wanted to do forever. Prying one eye open, I used the still of dawn to study him, the stubble coating his jaw, the length of his lashes resting on his cheeks, the shape of his nose and fullness of his lips. As they always did, my eyes drifted downwards, tracing the cords of his neck, shape of his collarbone and over the firmness of his chest. Glancing at his face to make sure he was still asleep, I continued on my path down his exquisite body, the contours of his abdomen and crook of his hip to his cock, thick and semi-erect. My own, already hard, jumped at the sight and a rush of heat hit me as I remembered the night before and the walk in the graveyard.  
>After we'd returned home, he busied himself in the kitchen making us drinks while I stripped off the outer layers of clothing and sat on the couch. He joined me minutes later, sitting behind me and guiding me back against his chest. We let the silence fall over us, his fingers gently stroking my thigh. When I set my glass down, he lifted me off him and led me upstairs to his bed. Clothing was shed, flesh was touched and lips wandered before we climbed under the blankets. Lying on his side, he secured me to him in his strong arms, his body perfectly moulding to mine like a puzzle piece, one I'd been missing my entire life. We fell asleep like that, his body protective and solid behind mine. At some point during sleep Edward had rolled onto his back, being sure to take me with him, keeping me pressed to his side with one arm around me and the other resting on my hip.<br>Bringing my thoughts back to the present, I gave his cock a lingering look, before my eyes continued down his long legs interrupted by the Egyptian cotton that tangled around his calves. Careful not to wake him, I slowly eased myself out of bed, missing his warmth the second our bodies separated. Searching through my ruck stack on the floor, I grabbed my toothbrush and tiptoed to the bathroom, glancing at him over my shoulder before closing the door to muffle the sounds. Turning on the faucet, I squeezed his toothpaste onto my toothbrush and stared at the sink as I brushed my teeth, leaving a mint flavour behind. Rinsing the brush off, I left the water running while I used the toilet, then took a deep breath before turning off the faucet. Slowly, I opened the door, peeking out to make sure he was still sleeping soundly before padding back to the bed. I was foolish, I knew once we kissed, he would know I'd been up already, but it was an illusion I wanted to maintain.  
>Pulling back the duvet, I climbed under it and nestled next to him, laying my head on his chest, his heart beating steadily and loudly under my ear. When I felt his thumb moving back and forth on my lower back, I knew he was waking up and turned my head toward him. His eyes remained closed, but his tongue peeked out to run along his lower lip and his hand descended to cup my ass. His groan rumbled through his chest and I blushed.<br>There was no 'good morning' or 'how did you sleep', there was just his hands moving me on top of him, my legs falling on either side of his hips as our lips met. Our tongues greeted in lazy swirls, our lips meshing and nibbling. Sure hands freely roamed up and down my back, one weaving into my hair while the other followed the curve of my spine. Between us, his cock hardened and mine throbbed. Shamelessly grinding on him, I tunnelled both hands through his hair, the silky strands sliding through before I urgently fisted for more. Moaning, his hands returned to my ass, spreading and groping while his hips bucked up against my weight. His body shifted under me, his head angling as he blindly reached for the bottle of lube on the bedside table. Never breaking the kiss, he flicked the lid off, and decanted it onto his hand, his slickened fingers quickly finding their way to my ass. His finger rubbed the soft skin in a teasingly slow manner and I pushed down against it. While one hand remained tangled in my hair, his other readied me, his talented fingers sliding in and out of me. Breathless, I lifted my head, finally looking into his open eyes for the first time that morning. Still blinking sleep away, his lids were half closed as he stared back at me. The darkness that constantly circled around their edges had faded into a lighter hue, the emerald replaced by leafy green. Desire filled them and my cheeks flushed under the attention. My shyness brought a slight smile to his lips, but an intensity to his eyes as his entertainment instantly turned needy at the staining of my cheeks.  
>"More," I pleaded brazenly as I wiggled my ass against his hand.<br>With a passionate growl, he swiftly flipped us, his weight pressing me into the mattress as he ground his hips, creating a wet friction of his cock against mine. With a slight shift of his weight, his hips settled between my legs and I wrapped one around him. Encouraging him further, I arched my back, pushing my head into the pillow. Edward took advantage of the position, his mouth fusing to my neck, sucking the tender flesh between his teeth as his cock entered me, stretching and filling. Groaning, I moved my hands to his ass, groping the muscles as they clenched with each slow thrust. Curving an arm under my shoulders, his lips continued to feast on my neck and collarbone, eventually making his way back to mouth. In a devouring kiss, broken only by short gasps of breath as his pace instinctively quickened, our tongues met, the sensation of the kiss alone traveling throughout my entire body. Our need took over, hands grasping and tangling, hips pounding and skin slapping. Sweat glistened on his back, his hair clumping to his temple as he lifted his head and stared down at me, his eyes saying what words his lips couldn't form.  
>He wanted it to last as much as I did.<br>With effort, he stilled his hips, then placing a hand between me and the mattress, he rolled us over without ever having lost contact. It wasn't a position I was comfortable with. Under him with his body covering mine, I was hidden and protected, but on top I was vulnerable with all my imperfections on display. His large hands danced over my shoulders, down my sides, his fingers lightly grazing the scars on my skin. His grip came to rest on my hips, lifting and lowering me onto his cock, his eyes almost rolling back into his head when mine hips met his, sheathing him completely. Pushing my insecurities aside, I focused on Edward, and everything about him. Lifting my hand, I ran it down his cheek, over his parted lips and square jaw and neck to his shoulders, committing each inch of him to my memory to recall on the lonely nights I knew certain to be ahead of me. Every place I touched, a tremble was left in its wake.  
>Feeling empowered by his reaction, I rocked my hips, enticing a long moan and his fingertips to burrow into my skin. He was close, his body refusing to hold off no matter how much he strained in effort. Bracing his hand next to him, he pushed himself up until he was sitting with me impaled on him. Our chests were pressed together, our noses touching. Every one of his movements was slow and deliberate. My arms wrapped around his neck, toying with the ends of his hair as I leisurely rode him. Kissing and licking along the pulse in his neck, I inhaled his scent deeply. It was most concentrated there, the most him, not clothing or body wash, but just Edward. His taste was on my tongue, his scent in my lungs, his touch on my fingertips. I didn't want to forget any of it, from the exact colour of his eyes to the smoothness of his skin to the way he felt inside me. Never able to leave them for long, I returned to his lips, full and swollen, and pressed mine to them.<br>"Touch yourself," he groaned.  
>Biting my lip, I hesitated. It wasn't something I was comfortable doing, the reasons too complicated to tell him then. He only had to glance at my face to know, maybe not he reasons behind my pause, but enough to know I couldn't do it.<br>"You don't have to," he murmured understandingly as his hand moved from my hip to my cock.  
>The second his fingers wrapped around me in a tight fist, my body was on the brink of coming undone. My eyes closed and my body's responses took over, the sensations of sight, sounds and scent too much. A few drags of his hand later and my body tensed, my muscles clenching around him as my cock pulsed, releasing streams of warm come between us. Each stroke of his hand pulled more from my body, the orgasm rocketing through me.<p>

He lasted only a minute longer, a few bucks of his hips hitting deep inside me and marking me with his semen. It was him, it was us together, and I cherished it.

Dropping his head to my shoulder, his heavy breaths washed over my heated skin and I shivered. His embrace around me tightened, and I returned the gesture with my legs and arms. His presence and body surrounded me, and I wanted to take it with me when I left, that moment of intimacy, of bliss and comfort. There were no words, none needed to be said. We both knew what the other was thinking.

If only we could stop time.

"It's late," I mumbled.

His sigh was heavy, resigned, as his lips pressed to my neck before lifting his head. Drowsy, lusty moss eyes looked at me, the effort of the smile he was attempting never making it to his eyes. Instead, I kissed him and then eased myself off him, getting off the bed before I could be convinced to stay in it. I had a daughter, remnants of a life to return to. Following me out of bed, he threw on clothes from the floor while I washed up in the bathroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed when I returned, my clothes sitting next to him. Silently he beckoned me to him, placing me between his parted legs he dressed me, one article of clothing at a time. He took great care with each piece, his hands skimming over my flesh, his eyes tracking the movements. With a longing glance, he buttoned my jeans and then leaned his forehead against my abdomen. My hands found his hair, stroking it to soothe us both.

"Breakfast," he said determinedly, not giving me a chance to refuse.

He led me downstairs to the kitchen where I leaned against the island while he toasted bagels and spread humus on them.

"I'm not hungry," I said in one last attempt to get out of eating when he placed the food in front of me.

"I'm not going to risk you driving off the road," he grumbled.

He watched as I picked at it, hoping with each bite I chewed and swallowed would be enough to satisfy him. After only a few bites, he pushed his aside, letting me know I didn't have to finish mine either. But for him, I did. Smiling, he leaned to me, sweeping his lips over mine in a thank you. After clearing our plates, he went upstairs, returning a minute later with my ruck sack.

"I packed the rest of your things," he said as he placed it on the floor by the door.

He knew how hard it was for me to leave, his ache mirrored my own. It wasn't that I didn't want to return to my daughter, it was being separated from Edward again. It was the exact opposite of the excitement of when I had arrived a few days before.

Standing, I walked to him and melted into his comforting embrace. Fisting his shirt at his waist, I tethered him to me. The goodbye kiss started out innocent, lips pressed together to say what our words couldn't. It turned demanding when he tugged on my bottom lip to ease them apart. Suddenly, hands were clutching at shirts and pants, lips collided with throats and hips grinded.

"You're fucking hot," he groaned as he yanked my jeans down over my ass. "Need you."

His breath was moist against my neck and I pushed back against him. Before he could go further, I bent over and opened the front pocket of my backpack, pulling out a bottle of lube and handing it to him.

"You were keeping that handy," he chuckled as he coated his dick with it.

"It's a long journey home, I might get bored," I joked.

The second our eyes met, the banter was instantly replaced by need. It had only taken a minute to go from a sweet goodbye to his cock slipping into me. I braced myself against the wall, gasping as he thrust into me, urgent for us both to find one last release before parting. Wanton grunts and shameless pleas for more filled the room. In my pocket, my phone alarm buzzed, a tangible reminder of our time running out.

Edward sped up, his hips snapping harder, faster into me. Seconds later, my body tensed, my climax hitting me in powerful surges as my cock throbbed and released. His orgasm crashed over him just as mine began to ebb, his forehead on my shoulder as he caught his breath.

"I wish you didn't have to go," he whispered reverently.

His strong arm around my middle held up my sated, almost limp, body, but when the alarm went off again, he gently pulled up my pants, kissing my skin as he covered it. Once we dressed, Edward picked up my ruck sack and opened the door. With each step, the ache in my chest increased, and I reached for his hand to anchor me.

At my car, he tossed my bag inside before holding the door for me as I got in. Inserting the keys into the ignition, I started the car and rolled down the window. Sitting in the car felt out of place, awkward. I wanted to be inside his house, in his arms, his presence. Bending down, he breached the small space between us and kissed me softly.

"Call me," he murmured against my lips.

When he pulled away, the pad of his thumb ran over my lips, taking effort to move his eyes from them to my own. Hovering on the edges with the desire and love I'd come to recognize was a promise, a vow that he meant it. I wasn't a casual fuck to him, I was more.

We were more.

Nodding, I shifted into reverse and slowly let the clutch out. Edward released me and stood up, watching as I backed out of his driveway. Taking a deep breath, I drove away, his reflection growing smaller in the mirror and my ache grew larger.

We were definitely more.

Xx/ \xX

Arriving back at my apartment almost eight hours later, exhausted and emotional, I missed him already.

But I'd missed my daughter more. I'd missed her inventive ways of waking me, her uncontrollable curly hair, her dimples when she smiled and her impressive ability to make herself dirty in the cleanest of rooms. Every morning I fell in love with her, any and all transgressions from the previous day long forgotten.

I'd been gone three days, three bedtime stories, thirty-six nappy changes, and a hundred questions about the world she lived in. She had asked some brilliant questions in her time, bypassing the standard why is the sky blue questions that media had trained me expect and serving me downright witty ones.

My greatest joy in life became attempting to stump her and get the open mouthed, raised eyebrow expression that signalled I had won the game of 'why?'

"Daddy!" she squealed before both my feet had even crossed the threshold. I caught her as she catapulted herself into my arms, wincing at the strain on my back. I kicked off my shoes en route to the couch and flaked on it, bringing her with me. She screamed as we fell, no real fear present in her eyes, confident I wouldn't let harm come to her.

"I got a truck," she announced, leaning over the couch and presenting me with a fire engine. "It's cool," she continued, running the wheels along my arms and chest.

"It's so cool," I enthused, imitating a siren and taking over, before bringing it to an abrupt halt and extending the ladders.

"Help us, help us, my cats on fire," she yelled, combining the only two incidences she'd heard of involving the fire department.

Perched on the windowsill, the cat hissed at us before leaping from it and prancing off, tail in the air.

Besides the over enthusiasm I always rewarded her with, I'd maintained a no baby talk policy, letting her in to my deepest thoughts from the second I had her, the way spinsters did there cats.

"He said he loved me," I told her, trusting nobody else with his admission.

"Ooooo," she replied, eyes alight with childlike awe. Not understanding the true meaning behind what I was saying.

"You will have to come with me next time, so you can check he's good enough for me."

More like check I'm good enough for him, I thought to myself. We sat comfortably for some time while she listed off her activities, laughing when she crouched close and whispered in my ear that she had pee'd on my flatmate twice during one of the many nappy changes he had endured during my time away, earning her a high five.

"Love dad," she promised me, putting her hand over my heart. A gesture we'd shared all her life.

"Love Pepper" I pledged in return.

For the past six months dinner had been a painful affair, something she dragged out, mouthfuls eaten here and there between chattering and goofing around, but that night was an exception. She ate fast, swallowing the pasta in mouthfuls seemingly too big for her head. She knew that night she would get away with anything and she wasn't about to waste it on dinnertime antics. Before she had finished chewing her last mouthful, she was climbing down, sticking her bum into the air while she skilfully descended, then tugging on my sleeve and ordering me to follow her. I would, tomorrow would be a different story but that night I would entertain her every whim.

"Pyjamas first, then we can do whatever you want," I told her, going to my bedroom to put mine on too, as I always did to convince her she should.

"Stories," she demanded, pointing across the room at her bookcase before flopping onto the floor, scrunching up her blanket and using it as a pillow. I obeyed, sitting cross-legged in front of her, reading one after another. Eagerly following in my kooky footsteps, "The twits" by Roald Dahl had soon become her firm favourite. Knowing every line, I read quickly while she laughed and finished my sentences. It was toward the end of the book that inspiration struck her.

She bolted upright and crawled over to her doll's house, flinging her arm behind her she beckoned me forward. I crawled toward her, kneeling at her side.

"Upside down," she begged, her eyes glinting and a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

Not stopping to consider if it was a wise decision to encourage her wicked streak, I basked in her creativity.

"You get the glue, I will get the scissors," I said, directing her with my hands like a military recon mission.

Shrieking with delight at my cooperation, she scrambled over to her art desk, a miniature version of the one I had cherished as a teen, and lifted the lid, pulling out a children's glue stick and my hot glue gun. Handing me the gun she fell back to her knees. I plugged it in and pretended to pull back the barrel and load the imaginary bullet into the firing chamber.

"Let's do this," I dramatized, taking the safety off and squeezing the trigger. A spurt of hot glue pulling giggles from her belly.

Piece by piece we took the beautiful contents of the doll's house, the exquisite handcrafted furniture and embellishments, and sacrificed them to our inside joke. Turning them upside down and recreating rooms on the ceiling.

By the time we were fastening cutlery to the dining room table the excitable energy had drained and her head was lolling onto my shoulder.

"Time for bed," I whispered kissing her hair. I flipped the switch on the plug socket and lifted her as I stood, to a chorus of protests.

She was asleep before her head hit the pillow. I tucked her in, enjoying the moment's peace I had before it was overshadowed by loneliness.

Without her to entertain and play with, I was left alone with my thoughts, the ache in my chest that smothered me whenever he was absent.

In need of a shower after a long day, I grabbed a towel from the airing cupboard and headed into the bathroom, stripping off items of clothing as I went, leaving my shirt draped over the banister and my pyjama bottoms in the hallway. I laid my towel down on the floor in preparation and grabbed my toothbrush from the holder, thoroughly brushing as I searched the cupboards for body wash. Returning the toothbrush to the holder and spitting out the mouthwash I had been swilling while I ran a hand under my jaw debating on shaving now or shaving in the morning. I stretched my arms above my head, satisfied with the stiffness that would soon be relieved by the hot spray of the shower.

I pulled the string of the shower by the door and then stepped into the bath tub. Annoyed when the water didn't start, I turned the dials on the front cover, repeatedly pressing the on/off button before fiddling with the hose and thermostat, not yet ready to believe that it was broken.

Once I had come to terms with the passing of my shower, I sat on the edge of the tub, resigned to the fact that it was now my only option. I stroked the cold cast iron rim anxiously, unnerved by how uneasy it made me feel, baths were great, weren't they? I'd just been taking showers for so long that I had forgotten.

Turning the taps, I held my forefingers in the stream of water and waited for it to turn hot, then secured the plug and sat back on the edge to watch. The heavy sounds and steam did nothing to ease my confusion, and I lost myself in the rippling shadows the water cast, seeing nothing else but its constantly disrupted rhythm, pushed to and fro by the pounding water, happily going along with it.

A stray thought about how long I'd been there and how high the water had risen caught my attention and snapped me out of my trance like state and I refocused on the rapidly filling tub. Shutting off the water and testing the heat with my elbow like I did for Pepper before each of her baths. The water was too hot but not scolding and I knew I would appreciate the burn more than the time and effort expended by draining some of the water and refilling with cold.

I turned around on the ledge and let my feet get used to it, raising them a few times until my skin adjusted to the temperature. Once my feet were acquainted, I forgot it might take the rest of my body a little longer and sank into the water, my lower half completely covered.

I bent my knees and folded them in to submerge my top half until my ears were underneath the water. There was a groan in the pipes and it reverberated around the tub, bouncing off the cast iron, both magnified and dulled by the water. They were sounds I hadn't heard in years. I closed my eyes to concentrate and forgot the confusing uneasy feeling that had me on my guard. Leaving me susceptible to its cause then it hit me, memories washing over me in waves that matched the ripples of the water.

_My mother's fingers carded through my hair while she repeatedly filled a plastic jug with water, then forming a visor with her hand to protect my eyes, she poured it over my head. Washing out the shampoo, she had massaged in. Taking my eyes from the array of bubbles, I looked up at her through wet eyelashes. She had such a pretty face and beautiful hair, caring hands and words, but her smiles never reached her eyes and her hands never reached out to protect me. I never wanted to see her hurt, I never wanted to see her cry, my instinct was to protect her, but it was an instinct she sadly did not share beyond keeping stinging water from my eyes. When it counted most, she was distant._

_The bottom step of the stairs creaked and she pulled away like I had stung her. The creak was followed by twenty-six thuds signalling the ascent of my father. As he drew closer, I curled further into myself, my chin meeting my knees, hoping I wouldn't be the target he sought that time. _

"_Get out," he commanded, his words directed at my mother, who swiftly exited, taking the warmth from the room with her. With his back turned from me, I watched him, taking note of every twitch and measuring the distance between him and the door. I was trapped._

His head titled to the side and I caught a stray smile spread across his face in the bathroom mirror, before he turned, the smile erased and anger raged in his eyes. He crouched at the side of the bath and reached out to hold my jaw, ensuring he had my attention.

"_Did you think I wouldn't find out," he breathed, his voice taking on a silky quality that always meant danger. _

_When I didn't reply, he tightened his grip and shook me. I scoured my brain trying to think what I had done wrong, which foot I'd set out of line, which rule I had broken._

_When I found nothing and was confident I hadn't, I replied.  
>"I didn't do anything," I said, my words starting out strong but breaking and reducing to a whisper when his eyes narrowed. <em>

_He stood up, bending over the tub and pulling my legs out from underneath me, forced my head under the water. Water filled my nose and mouth as my hands shot to my jaw to pull him away, using all my strength to pull and kick and struggle my way out of his grasp but feeling nothing but the hard surface of bath, the pressure of his hand and the tightening in my chest as I inhaled the water. _

_Minutes that seemed like hours passed and I stopped struggling, certain it wasn't getting me anywhere and content for it to be the end. The second my body stilled, he dredged me from the water, leaving me to cough and splutter choking up the water I'd swallowed. He left the room without another word, closing the door behind him and I pulled my knees back in to my chest._

_I sat for hours, shivering in water that had long cooled, the tears falling down my cheeks providing a warm sensation for my body to focus on and feed off of. The door had opened and a gasp had escaped my sister's lips before I could even raise my eyes to check who stood there._

"_Jasper," she breathed, staring at me for a few seconds before grabbing a towel from by the sink and pulling me from the bath. Once we were on the bathroom floor, she wrapped her arms around me, rubbing my arms to get me warm._

"_Sorry I left you here," she mumbled her unnecessary, but heartfelt apology, and I nodded once in reply, not yet able to speak._

"_Do you want me to put you to bed tonight?" she asked, running her fingers through my now dry and tangled hair. I nodded once more in the affirmative and let her carry me to bed. _

At some point during my thoughts I'd sunk under the water but could stay under no longer and came up gasping for air, my heart pounding and my head clear. I hooked my feet around the bath plug chain and pulled it lose, the water draining around me as I stood. I wrapped my lower half in a towel and stumbled into my bedroom.

Grabbing my phone I dialled, my head still pounding and my breaths escaping in pants.

"Hey love," he greeted sleepily. "Are you okay?"

I exhaled, a mixture of pain and relief washing over me at the same time and burst into tears.

"Shhh," he soothed over the phone in a whispered tone. "Take a deep breath and talk to me"

"I can't," I mumbled back feebly.

"Yes you can, darling heart, one deep breath and the worst of it will subside."

Complying I drank in air, filling my lungs and clearing my head. He talked to me in a low murmur telling me a story until I calmed.

"I miss you," I admitted.

"I'm right here," he assured. "Three hundred and sixty miles between us, but with you, nobody else."

"Nobody else," I echoed, looking around at the dark silence of the apartment and sighing.

I dried off while we talked, pulling on some boxer briefs and slipping between my sheets. As I settled my head on my stiff pillow, I thought about how much I missed his house, the warmth that radiated from under his flooring and the texture of his expensive sheets, especially the duck feather pillows.

I lay on my side, closing my eyes and listening to his voice, behind my lids I could see him right there beside me. I breathed in trying to inhale his scent from the memories I'd stored.

"What are you wearing?" he asked me, his voice lowering to a gruffer tone.

I smiled at the mental image of him waggling his eyebrows at me, eyes glinting with desire.

"Nothing," I lied automatically.

He knew I was fibbing, he knew that my daughter woke me every morning and no matter how tired I was, I would put something on.

He laughed softly, "Underwear or pyjama bottoms?" he asked knowingly.

"Underwear," I confided.

"Pyjama bottoms," he returned.

Images of him padding around his bedroom in his thin pyjama bottoms, his feet and torso bare and his hair mussed, his cock clearly visible through his pants assaulted me. The memories faded too soon and I clutched at the wisps as they faded

"Talk to me?" I asked.

He caught my drift, that our connection still intact even with hundreds of miles between us was a great comfort. He knew what I wanted, what I needed to hear.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked without hesitation. "Warm breath and soft lips meshing, tongue sliding across your lips, pushing in to your mouth to rub against yours."

While his confidence shined on the phone, mine shied but it didn't mean I didn't enjoy every word, imagine all every detail and grow harder with each image.

"Pull you closer, heated skin touching, sucking the skin on your neck press my dick against your hip," he continued without prompting.

I moaned in encouragement and heard him moving on the line, gasping as he pleasured himself.

Rolling onto my front, I humped the mattress, reasoning that it didn't count if I wasn't using my hand to masturbate.

It was something I'd been conditioned to avoid completely, but with him on the other end of the line it felt different. It wasn't the all-consuming thick protection I felt in his presence, but it was still there, a veil of mutual love and respect that formed a barrier between me and my insecurities. The veil stopped it from feeling cheap or sleazy, it was as much making love as when he took me by the hand, led me to his room and laid me down in his bed.

"I want to be inside you, fill you, love you," he murmured his hand audibly moving faster as he continued, "Your ass feels fucking good."  
>Perfectly balancing the sweet and slow with fast and dirty, they met in the middle in perfect harmony sending me rocketing towards my orgasm.<br>"I'm coming, Edward," I moaned, finally finding my voice as I pressed my hips into the mattress and came, the soaring pleasure he always provided rocking through my body.  
>He groaned as he listened to me coming, telling me how hot I was before catching up and grunting with finality.<br>We talked a while longer as we cleaned up but we were sated and relaxed and we quickly started to drift. He fell asleep first, snoring softly. I could almost convince myself he was right beside me, right under me, my brain tried as hard as it could, but there was no fooling my heart, it longed for its companion beating steadily under my ear. I clenched my eyes and fought the thoughts until they receded and let me fall asleep.

I woke hours later with the phone still pressed to my ear. Edward must have woken in the night too and ended the call because the line had gone dead. I looked out the window and watched the light of early morning filter through the blinds, my mind relentlessly torturing me with vivid images of him asleep at my side. Glancing at the clock I sighed, 5:59, it would be seconds before she came in, moments before I had to remove any signs of heartache and be a half decent parent.

The clock ticked and right on cue the door that I'd left ajar squeaked open and a soft pitter-patter made its way across to my bed. Gripping the sheets, she pulled herself up and flopped at my side, tucking herself in to me and sighing contentedly. Bending my arm back, I stroked her silky hair and asked her what she wanted to do with the day.

"Everything," she answered thoughtfully and I laughed.

"Okay," I agreed, putting my hand out in front of her, she placed hers on top before we made them explode. "Let's do everything."

And we did, we filled the next few months with everything we could, sledding and walks in the snow, movies and curling up next to the heater, art lessons, baking and board games. To her it was merely a good winter, but to me it was a well needed distraction, a distraction from the ache that lurked, threatening to encroach on every quiet moment.

Edward and I spoke on the phone every night, saying how our days had been, how we missed each other, how we would touch if we were together. Murmurs of missing one another quickly turned into breathless desire as we chased our orgasms.

December 28th soon rolled around and as it loomed, I thought back to the last Christmas we'd celebrated with any resemblance of tradition, the year before last we pulled crackers, gorged ourselves on food, sang carols, and decorated the cramped room we gathered in.

We'd built a perfect façade of holiday cheer, it was perfect in all ways except the location and the situation. We'd done all these things at my sister's bedside as she slowly passed away. My dear sister, my best friend and fellow comrade, lay next to her baby, her perfect mirror at her side, tiny and incapable of understanding that they were sharing in both a first and a last.

We'd given each other the best gifts we ever would, the best gifts anyone ever could. She had given me custody of her daughter, my niece, and I'd given her promise to get the hell out, move away from home, keeping her precious baby far from the pain we'd endured, a world away from her grandparents.

Then as the New Year celebrations lit the sky, I'd watched the light leave her eyes and her essence leave her body. She was gone, and I was a father. Completely unequipped and scared, but we'd survived, just like all first timers did, learning on the job.

The next year we didn't celebrate Christmas, we ignored the holiday, refusing to pay it notice. Instead we visited her grave, Pepper bundled safe and warm in her stroller, and lay flowers against her mother's headstone, informing her of all she was missing, all we missed of her.

This year I was determined would be different. I wanted my little girl's whole life to be different, so different from mine. Like her first and last Christmas she shared at her mother's side, we pulled crackers, ate, sang, opened presents and played.

At the end of the day when she fell asleep, I carried her to bed, rewarding myself for holding it together, proud I made it so far into a time that represented grief and not merriment for me.

I knew it couldn't be that simple though, I knew January 1st was waiting around the corner, to spring out and devour me, to crush me once more.

Time wasn't merciful, just as it hadn't been when I'd been with Edward, it didn't freeze and put off the inevitable.

On New Year's Eve, we visited her grave in the early hours, while the majority of the surroundings lay still around us. I spoke to her as I always had when her heart was beating, confiding in her my thoughts and fears.

There was something mercifully holding back the floodgates, a thought that preoccupied me and prevented me from sliding into depression.

I hadn't had a single text from Edward for almost a full day. I had a sinking feeling something bad was about to happen, that his interest had tailed off. It was an awful feeling, but it balanced my other awfully feelings perfectly, stopping either from taking hold for long enough. I toyed with my brain, effortlessly switching from one trouble to another. Sensing my unease Pepper became restless, crying with each thing that went wrong. She didn't know what the day was, she wasn't old enough to feel the impact of the anniversary, but her mind was in tune with mine, it reacted to my disquiet and she became overly sensitive, straining the simple tasks we carried out through the day.

That night she fell asleep on the sofa with me, knowing somewhere inside her that I not ought to be alone. I watched the celebrations on the TV with the sound off. I sat back against the sofa and imagined how Edward would count down to the New Year surrounded by family and friends, with those he loved. The itch that told me I wasn't one of them was ever present in my thoughts ached at that image. Sighing discontentedly at my phone as it revealed no new messages, I stopped fighting the closing of my lids and fell asleep long before midnight.

A knock at the door woke me, and I wondered idly what time it was, it was still dark out, but it was winter, wasn't it always dark? Careful not to wake Pepper, I slipped out from behind her and made my way to the door.

Not bothering to look through the peephole, I swung it wide open, squinting until my eyes adjusted.

There he was.

Edward.

Smiling sheepishly and raising his phone towards the sky.

"The reception out here is awful," he complained, his greeting

"You're here," I stammered.

"I am," he confirmed.

"How?" I asked. "Why?"

"Ferry and a really long drive…and to count down to the new year with you," he added, answering both of my questions.

My mouth was still open and unable to formulate words yet I followed the path of his hand as it reached out to me. I took it unquestioningly as he pulled me out of the front door. Lifting me slightly, he held me close and lowered me on to his feet, sparing me the cold snow that piled on the doorstep.

He gestured to the TV through the door and I painfully dragged my gaze from his eyes and turned my head to face it in time to see the countdown flash on screen.

When it got to five, Edward joined in, his whispers warming my face.

"3…2…1," we finished together, lips meeting repeatedly as we greeted a new year.

A new life.


	4. Daddy's Eyes

All main characters belong to Stephanie Meyer; I just enjoy their company.

A romanticized revision of a true story

Edward's POV

I broke the kiss and took a deep look into his beautiful eyes, the same ones. I'd dreamt of night after night since he'd left my home. It hadn't been long apart, but it had been far too long. Had I realised how much the days would drag without him in my home, I would have insisted he stay. Knowing his slim body wouldn't conduct heat well and worried about the cold night air against his bare feet and throat, I lifted him back onto the doorstep.

He whined lightly, ensuring me that my kiss had sufficiently warmed him. Shuffling forward, I kept us pressed together, the step of the door making him as tall as me. I bowed my head and pressed it against his chest, inhaling his scent. After taking a moment to enjoy his scent I raised my head and licked my lips, smiling when his eyes darted to them and followed the track.

"Can I come in?" I asked unsure where to go from here. I hadn't thought much past arriving on his doorstep and kissing until our lips grew numb.

He pretended to think about it, showing himself up with his poor acting skills. His pretense broke in seconds, a dazzling smile spreading across his lips as my answer.

"Can I stay?" I pressed. Again uncertain what his reply would be, I mentally prepared myself to sleep in the car or get a late booking in a nearby hotel.

"As long as you want," he answered, filling me with relief.

Knowing I had a place to stay, seeing the joy on his face at the prospect of having me here and feeling his hard on as our bodies pressed together in the doorway allowed me to relax. I peered around him into his living area, my eyes drawn first to the faux fireplace that consisted of an electric heater with a hand painted illusion of a chimney and a centered shelf acting as a mantel with photos and trinkets arranged along it.

Holding out his hand, he led me into the house and closed the door behind us. I took off my coat knowing I would warm much faster if the heat had better access to my skin, not having to penetrate an extra layer of clothing. The warmth of the room gradually renewed sensation to my cold skin.

He was different. It probably wasn't noticeable to most, but I saw an air about him that he didn't have at my house, a confidence he wore in his own environment that aroused me further. Scanning the room, my gaze found a small arm poking over the edge of his leather futon, bent at the wrist with an even smaller hand attached.

"Is that her?" I breathed, my heart swelling from the smallest glimpse.

He nodded and grinned, biting his lip at the same time, his fatherly pride evident in every feature. His hand back in mine, he walked me around the other side of the sofa and stood over her.

She was tiny, striking, the spitting image of Jasper. Her hair looked softer, wilder, her eye lids were closed but they cast a shadow a mile across her cheeks, as did his. Covered with a purple blanket, she lay on her stomach with knees pulled up under her and bum raised in the air. Her right cheek was pressed to the sofa, and her lips puckered.

I took a moment to watch him watch her, protective and adoring, the unconditional love I only dreamt of sharing with him apparent in his eyes.

"Get your things from the car and lock the door on your way back in, I will take her up to bed and meet you back here," he directed in a hushed tone.

Kissing his cheek, I followed his orders, enjoying this new side to him as he commanded the situation.

Instead of putting my coat back on I simply grabbed my car keys from my pocket and rushed to my car, my pace slipping from a fast walk into an excited jog. I pulled my leather duffel bag from the back seat and slammed the car door, looking around nervously when the sound reached my ears before dashing back to the house.

Once inside, I turned and secured the house with the keys still dangling from the lock and set my bag on the floor by the sofa. While I waited for him to settle his daughter to sleep on the second floor, I took a look around, recognising the building to be refurbished accommodated living. The style of house they created for students, a shared home that would house three or four people usually with locks on each bedroom door. Although it was clear from the décor it had been a while since it had been used for that.

The mantel was hand painted a bare brick wall effect, each unique, never the same detailing twice. It was stunning and I longed to see more of his work. My fingers slipped from the wall and wrapped around a framed photo. With Jasper at her side, his sister Rosalie smiled back at me, holding a new born baby I now recognised as Pepper. The photo of him was stunning, but he looked gaunt and frail, much thinner than he was now and it confirmed everything I'd suspected. From the eating habits I'd witnessed, I had already internally diagnosed him, a curse that bled from my work life into my personal one.

Anorexia nervosa.

He had clearly put on weight the last two years, which was a good sign. My clinical mind went through various treatments, deciding on not pressing the matter and keeping a watch on what he ate throughout the weeks ahead.

Hearing the stairs creak, I returned the framed photo to the mantel and waited for him. The door opened and we walked towards each other. I'd had the best intentions to talk to him, ask him the questions on my mind, find out what he was comfortable with physically while other people were in the house, but by the time there were only two strides between us, I was wavering, and as we met in the middle, all resolve was lost.

Lips pressed together, soon giving way to tongues swirling. Eager to get the upper hand, get closer, get lost in each other. Hands gripped hair desperately and pulled at clothes. Spinning him around, I walked him backwards toward the sofa, falling on top of him when his knees buckled against the edge.  
>His shirt was off and his jeans were unzipped before we even parted for air, breaking the kiss I roamed his chest, kissing, nipping and then salving with my tongue. Sitting back on my knees I yanked at his jeans as he pressed his shoulders into the sofa, lifting his ass.<p>

The moment suddenly slowed and I took my time, keeping eye contact with him while I peeled back his jeans from his legs, kissing fresh skin as I exposed it. When his pants were off, I leaned over him for a deep kiss before settling between his legs and taking my time to further stimulate him. I teased him with kisses to his thighs and stomach before allowing him to desperately direct my mouth to where he wanted to feel it the most. After torturing him with the kisses I didn't waste time, taking the head of his cock into my mouth and sucking while my tongue danced through the slit and tapped the sensitive underside. He writhed beneath me, moaning quietly, clenching the muscles in his ass to try and thrust up against my hands that held him down.

Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I winked before removing my hands from his hips in the middle of one of his stronger attempts and letting his dick slide deep into the back of my throat. Gagging, my throat contracted against the intrusion, attempting to push him back out. He groaned at the sensation before slipping back out again. He swiped at my watering eyes before twisting his fingers with mine. He set a pace that quickly brought him toward the brink of his orgasm. Gripping my hair in warning, but not slowing down, I squeezed his hand giving him the go ahead to have at. He sped up, tapping the back of my throat with each thrust while fighting against his desire to moan. Just before he reached his end, I unwound his hand from my hair and slipped his dick from my mouth, smiling at his whining. Moving up his body and then lowering my head to his, I nudged it to one side, letting my moist breath tickle his ear before sucking the lobe into my mouth and nibbling.

"I want you to come while I'm inside you, feel your ass tighten and grip me while you shake with pleasure."

His whine quickly turned to a pleading moan and his lips sought mine as we devoured each other. When he wrapped his legs around me, I adjusted until my dick slid behind his tightened balls. Deciding to tease him further, I lifted my head.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" I asked as if I didn't already know. He bit back a moan but didn't reply. Rocking forward, my erection rubbed roughly against his hole. "Do you want my dick inside you?" I continued, breathing on his lips and kissing jaw.

"Fuck me," he begged bluntly.

That was a request I could fill.

Eager to get started, we both reached for the lube in my holdall at the same time and lost our balance, tumbling onto the floor and landing in a tangle of limbs. Not letting it distract us for long, I swiftly retrieved the lube from my bag while smothering our laughter with a kiss. Sucking his tongue into my mouth and nipping at his lips until we were grinding relentlessly. Holding me close, he gripped my shoulder with one hand, his other digging into my hair. I rested my forearm on the floor by his head, my fingers sliding into his silky locks and tugging while my other hand flipped the cap on the lube, squeezing a pool of it onto his abdomen. Coating my dick first, I stroked it to relieve some of the pressure before dragging the lube from his stomach over his balls and down to his hole.

Unlocking my lips from his, I pushed against him. "I think about fingering you all the time," I confessed in a murmur as I slid one in and felt him push against my hand, moaning his plead.

Enjoying the way he gripped me, I quickly added a second, my brain and dick both recalling how good he felt, how good it would feel to be that tightly surrounded inside him. Before I managed to add a third, he was pulling my hand away and groping my ass.

"We have to be quiet," he whispered, his own moan immediately breaking the rules.

I laughed against his throat and placed my hand over his mouth to quiet him, receiving a seductive buck of his hips in response. Moving my hand to my dick, I lined it up with his entrance and pushed forward slowly until I reached the resistant muscle before breaching it and penetrating him deeply. He groaned into my hand, his breath heating my palm. Replacing my hand with my lips, I kissed him while thrusting at a steady pace, rocking us both toward our orgasms.

I'd known the first time we'd had sex, but being with him then, surrounded by not only his body but in his home, only made certain what I already knew…that I could never have enough of him, his brilliant creative mind, his generous caring heart, or his beautiful body and tight ass.

Our bodies in perfect sync, just as he bit my bottom lip and grabbed my ass, I sped up, giving him what he needed to crash over the edge. Sweat slickened bodies glided together, hands gripped and held, muscles strained in effort, lips fused together in searing kisses between gasps of breath. I could think of nothing but how good he felt, how complete he made me.

He came between us, his hot seed spilling onto his stomach and lubricating mine as I slid against him. His body shuddered and his ass clenched together, trying to draw me in deeper, the tight grip pulled my orgasm from me in a steady stream and he moaned into the kiss as my warmth filled him and I slipped out. Exhausted, I fell onto the floor next to him.

We lay in silence for a while, our breaths slowly returning to normal. Eventually he rolled onto his side and tucked himself under my arm, his head resting on my chest. A few seconds later he lifted his head, and moved the chin length waves, dampened by our love making, away from his ear and placed it back on my chest. I smiled to myself as he listened to my heartbeat. It was a simple, tender gesture. Overwhelmed by love, I breached the silence, feeling I owed him my bared soul.

"I wasn't sure how much you meant to me until I watched you backing out of my drive," I confessed honestly.

"Is that a euphemism?" he giggled, reading my mind

My body shook with laughter momentarily before I took a deep breath and continued, stroking his back with my thumb as I spoke. "Work has been the most important thing in the world to me for a long time. I love helping people, people that aren't equipped to help themselves." Taking a deep breath, I finished a sentence that I wasn't sure should be spoken aloud. "You're a person, I think you might even be _the _person I trained all those years to help. Will you let me help you?"

It was silent while he thought about what I said, no doubt panicking that I had seen through his wall and knew he needed help. Tightening my grip on his back I silently told him not to run from this.

"I'd like that," he finally answered, and I let the breath I'd been holding escape. "How long can you stay?" he added, not giving me a chance to take that topic further.

"I've never taken a day off before," I replied, reassuring him my visit wasn't going to impact my career.  
>"I didn't even know how to go about it. It took a while to arrange and transfer patients but I made it in time for New Year."<p>

He smiled at me, enjoying the romantic notion of my timing and stretched up to kiss me. I watched as a thought entered his head and he processed how to deal with it.

"You can't come to my room tonight," he said cautiously, examining my face for my reaction.

"Of course, I completely understand," I returned, knowing immediately his thought had been concerning his child who slept in her room above us.

"I've no problem with that eventually," he reassured. "She just needs to meet you under more appropriate circumstances before she sees you sleeping next to me."

I moaned lightly, letting him know sleeping in his bed was what I desired and would be worth the wait.

"Set your fancy smart phone to wake me at ten to six, I will slip upstairs for our morning routine and prepare Pepper for an introduction over breakfast," he suggested.

"Then what?"

"Then," he sighed, "it's nursery for Pepper and dinner at my parents for us."

There was no asking me if I wanted to go, he knew full well I wanted to see where he grew up, meet his parents. "That sounds perfect," I agreed. "I hope she likes me."

"She will love you," he promised, his eyes drifting closed. Yawning, he added, "You should sleep. She will take a lot out of you tomorrow."

I chuckled to myself. How much could a toddler take out of a full grown man? With Jasper's sated body snug in my arms, I fell into a blissful sleep, the first since he'd left weeks before.

"**~~**"

Hours later my phone alarm rang, but Jasper hit snooze before I fully returned to consciousness. I felt his lips rub over my cheek before he stood up and moved upstairs.

Ten minutes later the alarm went off again and I got up, dressing myself in clean clothes and running my fingers through my hair. Going into the kitchen, I filled the kettle and flicked the on switch, leaning against the countertop while I waited for them to descend.

Making his coffee just how he liked it, black with two sugars, I set it on the countertop and then snooped around the kitchen, smiling at the wine rack filled with squash and baby powder. Bending over I looked at the magnets on his fridge, smirking at his dark humour.

A loud whisper that could only belong to a child, sounded from the stairwell. "I see him, Dad."

"That's my boyfriend," he giggled to her childishly. "Want to meet him?"

I turned in time to see her nod vigorously. "Hello," I greeted her.

He put her down and she walked over to me slowly. Crouching, I held out my hand, introducing myself while I shook her hand, sending waves up her arm and making her laugh.

"Pepper," she returned, her chin dipped, looking up through lashes a mile long.

She introduced herself the same way her father had the day we met. She bit her lip, her tiny square teeth poking out. For a second I mistook her for a shy girl before she launched into an interrogation with an intelligence level way beyond her years. Taking her hand out of mine she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, her weight resting on one leg caused her hip to jut out as far as her attitude.

I'd worked with many children, often tragic circumstances had led them to my office, her precociousness was something I was used to.

"Are you love?" she started, the first and most important question to a girl with a sad parent. She was as protective of him as I was.

Covering my heart with my hand, I told her the truth, "I'm in love."

Shrugging her shoulders up to her ears she relaxed and pointed at the lights that twinkled in the kitchen window. "Christmas," she announced, "Are you presents?"

Catching his eye to be sure he was okay with me spoiling her, he rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Of course I brought presents, Pepper, I had planned to bribe you," I said truthfully. Her eyebrows creased and her head tilted quizzically. "Bribe means give you treats so that you like me."

"Ohhh," she exaggerated with her lips, understanding before giggling at my honesty, almost bouncing with excitement at the thought of gifts.

"I will be right back," I promised with a wink. I nipped out the car for their presents.

When I returned, he'd lifted her into her chair for breakfast. Her eyes shot to the bag as I entered the kitchen and she kicked her feet wildly. Eyeing the large bag wearily, Jasper walked over to me and peered inside.

"Don't worry, half are for you," I teased, restraining myself from kissing him, his proximity burning across my skin.

"Ohhh," he mocked, imitating his daughter's response.

I leaned in closer, my lips almost touching his ear. "Although you might want to open them in private," I murmured low enough so only he could hear, licking my lip as I finished and flicking it over his lobe, enticing a light moan from him.

Even though squeals of excitement had filled the room around us, the sexual tension had masked them and it took a second for us focus on the task at hand. I handed presents to her one by one and she fumbled with the paper, her chubby hands occasionally losing grip as she tore at it to reveal her prize. Delighted with each, she pulled them in to her chest and politely uttered her thanks before showing them to her dad and pointing at the features on them, beginning each babbled sentence with an eager 'look, look'. After a short while of humouring her with mock fascination, he pried them from her grip, instructing her to eat up.

While Pepper munched on her toast, Jasper left the room only to return with a pair of red wellies, holding them out to me. Pleased that he involved me, I took them and sat in a chair next to her and put them on. Knowing the drill well, she pointed her toes helpfully. Once they were on, I checked that her jeans were tucked in so her little ankles wouldn't get cold.

When she finished, she held her arms up to me and I lifted her from her high chair before setting her down on the floor. Jasper knelt in front of her covering her with layer after layer of warm clothing, a jumper, a coat, a scarf and some mittens. He then stood and handed her a cup. Watching how well they functioned as a team, their lines and actions well-rehearsed, I added my own layers.

As we left the house, he grabbed her diaper bag and I grabbed his coat and scarf from the banister, chiding him for forgetting to dress himself and wondering just how often he went without to provide for her.

In the car, I sat with my legs sticking out of the car door and turned to watch him strap her in. Noticing my interest, he talked me through each step and I memorised his moves, hoping to be more useful the next time we went out. Once we were seated and buckled in, I turned my attention more fully to him and watched how he operated, analysing his movements. Taking a deep breath for resolve, he glanced in the rearview mirror at his daughter one last night time.

"Ready, Pepper?" he asked with a cheer that didn't reach past his voice.

She nodded energetically, unlike her daddy, she was ready for her adventure. Looking behind him, Jasper backed the car out of the driveway and headed down the street. His focus was on the task at hand, his eyes constantly glancing in his mirror at Pepper and around the street. With both hands on the wheel, his seatbelt on and concentrating, he was the epitome of a safe driver. I wondered if he always had been, or if it was because of his precious cargo. As much as I felt I'd known him for years, as much as I'd learned simply from observing, I longed to know more about his past.

A past I was soon to meet.

An Irish Christmas song played on the radio, filtering through the speakers. Before I could ask Jasper about it, Pepper began to sing it in her native language. Jasper joined, coaxing her along as I remained quiet, listening to them.

One thing was clearer, more powerful, than anything else, and that was that he loved his little girl. He put her before himself, her needs and wants and safety were more important to him than his own. Even in the short time I'd seen them interacting, I knew without a doubt there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. From the simple things, such as not letting her see us in bed together and making sure she was bundled in coat when he almost forgot his own to buying her food on the grocery list and then seeing if he had enough money for his own.

They continued to sing, occasionally interrupted by giggles bubbling from her mid verse. For the first time, there was no glancing around the countryside or the town as we entered it, they enraptured my attention completely. Just as the second song ended, Jasper put on the turn signal, something I tended to forget, and pulled into the small car park in front of a building with the sign "Little Leprechauns".

"We're here," he said as he put the car into park and turned off the ignition.

Slouching, I looked out the windscreen at the nursery. "Has she gone here before?" I asked, attempting turn my concern into curiosity. Since he had told me he was dropping her off at nursery instead of bringing her to his parents I had wondered why.

"Yes," he replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and assuring me, "many times."

Twisting my upper body, I watched as he unbuckled Pepper from the car seat. His fingers moved deftly, efficiently, while he spoke to her, asking her what kinds of projects she would do at nursery. She answered 'art', putting a smile on her father's face. With a practiced skill, he lifted her from the seat and grabbed her nappy bag sitting next to it. Resting her on his hip, he kicked the door closed with his foot.

"Be right back," he said as he turned for the building.

Reaching down between my legs, I lifted the lever and pushed the seat back, almost moaning when I was able to stretch my legs out. Alone in the car, I took the opportunity to look around but it took great effort to resist the urge to pilfer through the compartments. It wasn't the typical car of a bachelor, not sporty in the slightest, it was economical and safe. Evidence of his fatherhood was everywhere from the baby bottle in the back seat among the scattered lolly wrappers to the spare pacifier sitting in the cup holder. The only resemblance of Jasper in the car was the coins collected in a spot between the seats and the air freshener hanging from the mirror. My hands were just about to wander when his door opened and he climbed inside.

"Is she all settled?" I asked as he inserted the keys.

He nodded, a hint of sadness on his face. He already missed her. It was then I realised just how much he sacrificed to visit me for days at a time. Pulling the belt across his chest, he buckled it, his glance to my legs not unnoticed. I knew better than to kiss him there, in public where he had just dropped off his daughter. I might have known how he liked to be touched, but I knew nothing about his life there.

Without Pepper, I was able to put my attention entirely on him, and I did as he pulled out of the car park and onto the street. Unable to hold off my professional and personal curiosity, I turned in my seat as much as it would allow and studied him freely. His eyes dulled in her absence, her mirth replaced by dread. Driving was merely perfunctory for him now, even with me in the car to distract him. Gestures became nervous habits he'd never outgrown and I knew he wanted a cigarette just to keep his mind focused on a simple task.

"How come you aren't bringing Pepper?" I asked.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he replied quietly, "Their house is really clean, she'll mess it up."

It was a weak excuse, one I didn't believe for a second. The little girl I'd met was well behaved and doted on her father. If he told her to not make a mess, she wouldn't make a mess.

"Is it hard for them because her mother died?" I pressed, and he shook his head. "Is it hard for them because she looks a lot like her mother?"

Another shake of his head.

There were questions I had already assumed the answers to, but it was my training to work through all the possibilities to reach the truth. He was clearly protecting her by not taking her to his parent's house. Since the moment we'd met, I'd felt the need to protect him from any harm. In part it was that need that had led to me arriving on his doorstep in a country I'd never been to. I was very familiar with the feeling, and I saw it in him, in everything he did for his daughter. I'd been through years of schooling, and more years of training and was good at my job. I'd seen and treated many children, and a fair amount of adults, in similar situations, but I didn't ask the next question because of my professional experience.

It was personal.

"Is it because they mistreated you?"

There was no shake of his head.

The tensing of his jaw and flicker in his eyes confirmed what I suspected. I no longer wondered why he lived two hours from his parents. Putting my hand on his knee, I squeezed it, reassuring him no further questions or answers needed to happen. The day was going to be difficult enough for him.

Seeking to relieve his stress and distract him even if only a few minutes, I boldly opened his glove box. He glanced at me sideways, but remained silent. There were receipts, a few papers pertaining to the car, a pair of mittens, and a cd wallet. Pulling out the wallet, I closed the glove box.

"Let's see what kind of music taste you have," I said, "besides Irish Christmas songs." Unzipping the wallet, I flipped to the first one and chuckled. "Really?" I asked with a raised brow, holding it up for him to see.

"What?"

"The Rolling Stones? I had you pegged as a Beatles fan," I teased.

"We all had to pick a side…you?" he quipped.

"Beatles. I'm a dreamer," I chuckled.

His body visibly relaxed slightly. My teasing didn't irritate him, it distracted him to a point where I became his focus again and not memories or where he was driving. He easily returned my banter, and for the remainder of the trip, we talked about bands and music. We passed mile after mile of snow covered fields spotted by the occasional farmhouse. Coming to a stop sign, he turned left, swallowing and biting his lip.

We were close.

We might not have spent much time together, but I knew everything about his body, I'd memorised and recalled it every night since he'd left. I knew every muscle, every twitch, every scar. Gradually, the tension he'd lost returned. When he no longer laughed at my jokes and his eyes filled with sadness, I knew we'd arrived. Slowly he pulled into the driveway of a farmhouse.

From the frugal way Jasper lived, I'd assumed he had been raised in a poor household, learning to clip coupons and conserve and reuse, but when I saw the two-story stone house on many acres with several barns and buildings surrounding it I realised his poverty didn't stem from his childhood.

Shifting into neutral, he turned the car off and closed his eyes, gathering his strength before opening them. Without a word, he opened his door and got out. Unfolding myself from the compact car, I followed. The urge to take his hand and tell him it was going to be okay was strong, but I resisted and let him lead me to the front door. With each step he took, I could see his demeanor changing, morphing into the frightened boy I suspected to be inside him.

Opening the door, his mother greeted us silently with a small smile, eyeing me warily as we entered the kitchen. Jasper quietly said hello to her, but there was no affectionate hug or kiss to his cheek. She was slender and pretty with brown hair, and while her attempt to cover the yellowing bruise under eye had failed, there had been no attempt to hide the bandage wrapped around her wrist.

His father stood next to her, intimidating to most at about six feet tall and bulky with graying hair cut close to his head. Instinctively, my guard went up. Widening my shoulders, I stood next to Jasper, preparing for the battle I felt might be coming. Habitually, I glanced around my new surroundings, familiarizing myself as much as I could. A saying I had learned on the streets replaying in my ears as I entered any room, 'know your exits', and within a few seconds I did, the door we'd just walked through and a back door through dining area.

With his head dropped, his chin almost resting on his chest and his eyes obediently downcast to the floor, Jasper introduced me.

"This is my friend Edward," he said meekly. I placed my hand on his on his shoulder, leaving it there supportively. He was tense, his body anticipating a fight or flight response at any second.

His mother merely nodded at me while his father eyed me suspiciously through cold eyes. "Are you fucking him?" he asked rudely, his eyes never glancing to Jasper, not even calling him by name.

"No," I answered with more authority than he'd asked.

Then he took in my appearance, expensive clothing and shoes, and I watched as it registered in his mind. He thought I was too good for his son, that Jasper couldn't possibly be involved with someone as well off as myself. Accepting my lie, he relaxed slightly and in a mock attempt at politeness, he held his hand out for me to shake.

My hand never budged from Jasper's shoulder.

His father let his hand fall awkwardly and he finally looked at his son. The cold glare he'd given me was replaced by amusement, like Jasper was nothing more than a thing to be toyed and played with, manipulated into exactly what he desired, a child to be seen and not heard. In those few minutes, I knew what had truly happened to Jasper. The abuse hadn't stopped at bruises and arm twisting, it'd gone much further.

After giving me a weak smile that didn't reach past her lips, his mother turned to focus on cooking. Giving Jasper a reassuring squeeze, I silently told him I could handle whatever was coming and he moved to help his mother. Joining her at her side, he immediately tried to engage her in conversation, asking something about her horse.

When his father left the room, I felt confident enough he was safe with his mother and I took the chance to look around. The house was as nice on the inside as the outside. Tidy and organised and nicely furnished, it resembled any older couple's home. It wasn't the grandest I'd been in, but it certainly wasn't what I had expected.

Leaving the kitchen, I wandered into the living room, drawn to the mantel over the fireplace and the framed photos sitting on it. They were of a typical family, some taken by a professional photographer, some candid shots. Stepping closer, I examined each one, especially a baby picture of Jasper. Even as an infant, I knew it was him, but I didn't know the mirror image propped up next to him, identical in every way right down to the same shade of blue eyes. Intrigued, I moved to the next picture, it was of a little girl, a toddler. I knew from Jasper's pictures it wasn't Rosalie, but she heavily resembled her. Jasper had another sister and a brother he hadn't mentioned. My mind reeled, quickly deducing all possibilities on where his other siblings were and settling on the worst case scenario.

While I continued to study the pictures, I listened for the return of his father's footsteps, not wanting to leave Jasper to face him alone. I could hear his mother and him chatting, the conversation ranging from church to the farm animals they raised. He didn't need to ask her about her wrist, she had a lied readily prepared about falling off her horse and spraining it.

When I heard the heavy footfalls in the hall, I quickly returned to the kitchen, stepping by Jasper's side and creating a barrier between him and his father when he entered. His father was clearly used to intimidating those around him, but I wasn't one to be easily intimidated and I was up for any challenge he was going to provide. His body seemed relaxed, but the side glances at Jasper's back were anything but. He never made a move toward him, especially not with me standing there, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to strike Jasper at any minute, and might have had I not been there.

The table was already set with place settings and his father sat down, leaning back in his chair and watching me intently. His mother said dinner was ready and Jasper walked solemnly to the table, his head still down but his eyes meeting mine briefly. There was a sense of relief in them, he knew he was safe with me there but it didn't stop the conditioned fear that lived deep inside him from years of suffering. Jasper sat down, his shoulders slumped, elbows off the table, chin down while he waited for his mother to serve the dinner they'd made. I sat next to him, across from his father. Plates of the roast dinner of chicken and vegetables placed in front of his father and me and herself.

Jasper's placemat remained empty.

Resisting the urge to say something and antagonize them for the next time he was there alone, I moved my plate toward him, my fork on it. Giving me a grateful glance, he took a few bites before placing the fork down and pushing it back toward me. He asked his mother more questions, the conversation always about herself and the horses. Never once did they ask about his life or their beautiful, sweet granddaughter. I could tell Jasper was bored by the topic but he persisted.

Completely ignoring his son's presence and unable to hide his curiosity any longer, his father finally spoke up. "What do you do, Edward?" he asked with fake pleasantry.

It was a question I was often asked, and an answer I enjoyed giving. I'd worked hard for my career and I enjoyed the respect that came with it, but telling Jasper's father my profession was going to be about more than getting respect.

It was going to scare him.

Meeting his steady glare with one of my own, I smirked. "I'm a psychologist."

"He needs one," he laughed, still not calling Jasper by name even when he directly insulted him.

"I wonder why," I challenged calmly.

That got the reaction I'd been searching for. His father shifted in his seat, his eyes leaving mine as his mind raced with worried thoughts. Instantly he went from thinking I was harmless to wondering if I was treating his son, and what his son might have already told me.

Next to me, Jasper stiffened, his hands wringing anxiously in his lap. Under the table, I moved my foot against his, assuring him I was fine, everything was fine.

"Wow," his father replied, completely disregarding my challenge, "I wish Jasper had done something worthwhile like that."

Not only were his words to bribe me with a compliment, but they were to hurt Jasper. "I think his profession is highly admirable."

The jabs to Jasper masked as compliments to me continued. Defending Jasper at every turn, I answered his father's questions evenly, not hesitating to use words beyond his vocabulary to make him feel as inferior as he made Jasper feel.

Not once did Jasper raise his eyes from the wood table we sat at.

Dinner was done and his mother stood to clear the dishes. As soon as Jasper pushed his chair back, I mimicked his movements, his body not even an arm's length from mine.

Leading me from the kitchen without another word, Jasper walked up a flight of stairs and down a short hallway to a door. Biting his lip, he opened it. Stepping inside, I glanced around the small, dingy windowless room with a cot in the corner. Instead of a closet or dresser there was a railing installed to hang clothes on. There was no evidence it had been the room of a little boy, there were no toys or books stacked in corners, no blankets covered in cartoon characters or trophies on shelves. In fact, it was a room barely fit for an animal much less a child.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Jasper hadn't moved past the doorway, biting his lip and his eyes down. The embarrassment of his room etched onto his face. He needed a distraction.

Walking the few steps to him, I took his hand off the door knob and closed it. Keeping my fingers wrapped around his wrist, I put my other on his hip and backed up against the door. Lowering my head, I captured his lips with mine, my tongue shoving inside and working him into a quick frenzy. Grinding my erection against his, I pressed my weight to him and moved both hands to his hips. Moaning, he fisted my shirt, returning the kiss with the same fervor. When I took a step backwards, tugging him with me, he broke the kiss and shook his head.

"Not here," he mumbled.

Gasping for breath, I nodded as he straightened his clothes and opened the door. I followed him down the stairs, desperately trying to ignore my hard on and listen for his father.

"I'm going to show Edward the property," Jasper told his mother as he walked out the kitchen door with me right behind him.

Side by side we walked past a few a barns, around the back and up to a field well hidden from the house. Taking off my coat, I spread it on the snowy ground and laid him on it, my hands going to the button of his pants before our bodies met in a fury of touches. Each kiss, each thrust was a fuck you to his father.

We returned to his house, the colour on both our cheeks easily caused by the cold air. Goodbyes were said to me, but Jasper's leaving was blatantly unnoticed. In the car, Jasper did up his seatbelt, his body truly relaxing for the first time since leaving his flat earlier. The drive home was mostly silent, my mind processing and cataloguing all I'd seen, all that had happened. From the subtle injuries his mother had, to the unmentioned siblings, to the stark bedroom, and finally focusing on his father, the head of the family who apparently ruled with an iron fist.

But for Jasper it has been worse than being slapped around.

I wondered about Rosalie, has she suffered the same fate as Jasper had, or had she escaped unscathed? I couldn't help but think that in her death she had saved his life. By giving him Pepper to care for, she had given him a reason to move away, a reason to live. My hand rested on his thigh, my thumb stroking it as I thought about how grateful I was to his sister.

She'd unknowingly saved me too.

Jasper pulled into the nursery, exiting the car hastily in his eagerness to see Pepper. When he carried her out, her little arms wrapped around his neck as he balanced her on his hip, I noticed he held her a little tighter. There was something else in his hands, a project she'd created. Opening the door, I got out and went to him, taking her from his arms. He opened the boot of the car and placed the project inside while I sat Pepper in her seat and pulled the straps tightly around her to buckle her in. When I stepped aside, Jasper leaned in to check my work. Placing a kiss on her temple, his eyes closed and he nuzzled her hair for a second before closing her door.

"How was your day, Pepper?" he asked as he started the car again.

Pepper launched into a long description of everything she'd done from the minute we'd dropped her off until we'd arrived to pick her up. Jasper replied with questions and appropriates ohs and ahs.

He was going to try harder to an even more wonderful dad than he already was.

Xx/ \xX

His smile was contagious, but when he flashed it at me, inviting me to join him, I shook my head. Rolling his eyes at my rejection, he fell back into the snow, the flakes swirling around him as he swung his arms wide in the first of what I knew would be many snow angels. Next to him was a smaller angel, his angel. Her tiny laughter at her father's antics filled the crisp air and I couldn't help but smile.

Stuffing my gloved hands in my pockets, I chuckled when his beautiful girl moved her arms so fast that the snow sprayed up and onto my lover. His normally pale cheeks were cherry red from the cold, his lips even darker. Suddenly, he jumped up, as fast as his body would allow, and he reached for our girl. Laughter spewed from her as he picked her up, the pain I knew he was in absent on his face as he swung her around. She was bundled in her snowsuit, the red hat on her head flattened her hair, her curly wisps sticking out from underneath it.

Setting her down on the ground, his body already doing more than he could comfortably handle, she darted away from him, her laughter trailing behind her like her footprints in the snow. She dared him to catch her, giggling loudly every time she looked behind her and saw him catching up. He looked cold and I chided him silently for not wearing the hat I'd told him too. His coat was done up, and there was a scarf around his neck and mittens on his hands. Mittens, not gloves.

"Fingers were meant to be together," he had said to me.

"Hands were meant to be useful," I teased in return.

"DADDY!" his daughter squealed when he reached for her, missing on purpose. With more laughter, she continued to run and he pretended to try to catch her.

The grey day had brightened with the sight before me. The snow still fell steadily from the sky, coating every surface in a blanket of heavenly white. Small flakes were in his hair, stuck to his long lashes and melting on his lips. He didn't know it and he would never believe me if I told him, but he was as beautiful and angelic as she was. I listened to him tease her, his voice light and fun, so different from the his true voice.

Pulling my collar up, I adjusted my scarf to stop the snow from landing on my neck. She was finally caught by her daddy and she squirmed as he lifted her and held her too him. He spoke his language to her and she instantly calmed, listening to his unique words and soothing voice. His features were animated as he told her something I couldn't understand. When she glanced at me, I suspected I was involved in whatever plan he had concocted. Sure enough, he set her down and she raced over to me, her tiny arms not even wrapping completely around my legs as she hugged them. Taking a hand out of my pocket, I rubbed her hat.

"Having fun?"

Wide-eyed with wonder, she looked up and nodded. "Daddy says you read me bedtime story."

I glanced up at her daddy, meeting his pleading eyes. "Oh, he did, did he?"

"Yep," she nodded eagerly. "Can you?"

"I'd love to," I answered, accepting his grateful smile.

Releasing me, she returned to her daddy, more excited than she had been before. I laughed as they both fell into the snow again, his tall body next to her tiny one, both of them spreading their arms and legs in the snow. It was silly and childish and it looked like fun. Pepper sat up and looked at her messy snow angel, delight bubbling from her before she moved to another spot to try again. My lover stilled, his arms and legs ceasing movement as his eyes closed for a few long seconds. Flakes gathered on him and I wondered if he was all right. Just as I started to move toward him, his eyes snapped opened and he sat up. Gingerly, he stood and dusted the snow off his jeans before trudging through the drifts to me. The air was silent except for his movement and our girl's happiness. Neighbors were inside, warm and safe and cars didn't dare travel on the slippery roads, leaving a tranquility in the air.

He never shook his head to rid the snow, he left it there for me to reach out and brush off when he stopped in front of me. Holding my gaze, he nibbled on his lower lip while I cleaned his hair and shoulders of snow.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I knew he was, I knew he would lie.

"No," he answered as I suspected.

"We should go in soon, she will get cold," I said and he nodded. We both knew she was perfectly warm and dry.

Lifting his hand, he took mine from his hair. "Come play with us," he pleaded softly.

My eyes drifted from his to his girl working on another snow angel. It was freezing and snowing quite heavily. I wanted nothing more than to go inside, have some tea and thaw out. Squeezing his hand, I nodded and let him lead me over to her.

With them was where I belonged.

Xx/ \xX

This wouldn't be here without my dear friend and beta Touchstone 67, thank you for all your encouragement. Remember everybody, all mistakes are hers.


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